The Vow
by infamouschelsea
Summary: Sequel to Maîtrise. Ana and Christian fought hard for their relationship and have been to hell and back. Maîtrise almost destroyed them but the strength of their love can conquer anything. But as the pair become increasingly distracted by their vows to make amends for the past, will they drift apart and lose sight of what they both truly need? (No AS/CG deaths - No Cheating)
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer: I own nothing except for original characters and entirely made-up plot lines. No copyright infringement intended. The thoughts and actions of the characters do not represent my own beliefs. I hope you enjoy it, my lovelies.**

I'm a little bit nervous about posting this but hey, now is as good a time as any!

Welcome to the sequel to Maîtrise!

This is a direct carry-on from Maîtrise. In terms of plot, Maîtrise ended in April 2012. The Vow begins in June 2012.

If you haven't read Maîtrise, I strongly recommend you do. You simply won't understand a word of what's going on here otherwise.

Stylistically, The Vow will be slightly different to Maîtrise. Whilst most of the story will remain in Ana's perspective, there will be some chapters written in the third-person POV of Christian. The reason for this will become clear as the story develops, I promise.

I will aim to update this story as frequently and regularly as I can. However, I am currently the main carer for one of my relatives who is unwell and, as such, there may be slight delays here and there. I have pre-written a number of chapters and hope that this will help me stay ahead. If there are delays, feel free to send me a polite message and I'll update you on when I'm likely to post a new chapter. If you are in any way bothered or upset by delays, I suggest you wait until this story is marked complete before you read it.

All guest reviews are moderated. Any abusive or rude comments will be deleted.

I really hope you enjoy this story. I have enjoyed revisiting our favourite couple.

Much Love,

Chelsea x

* * *

 **PROLOGUE**

It wasn't the first time Kate Kavanagh had been summoned to her boss's office, so she rose from her desk with ease and not hesitation.

Since she began working at Grey Enterprises Holdings two months ago, Kate had spent a lot of time with the CEO himself. She had earned her stripes and proved herself as a vital cog in his thriving PR department.

On some level, she and Christian had also become friends. They had cleared the air and started from scratch, now understanding each other much better than they had in the beginning. They now had a shared interest and both wanted the same thing.

To make sure Ana was safe and happy, no matter what.

Kate smoothed down her figure-hugging skirt as she stepped out of the elevator. She bypassed the blondes on the reception desk who were guarding Christian's floor with their stern expressions and judgemental eyes. She went straight to Christian's door and let herself in, not bothering to knock first.

"You wanted to see me?" she called into the room.

She came to an abrupt stop as two sets of eyes fixed on her. Her skin began to tingle under the weight of a certain shade of blue.

"Thank you for coming so quickly," Christian thanked her. He was sat at the board table and pointed to the seat opposite his. "Come join us. There's something we need to discuss."

Gulping down her bout of sudden nerves, Kate teetered across the office and sat down. She tentatively placed her forearms on the table and let out a small puff of air.

"Is something wrong?" she asked, focusing on Christian. She couldn't bring herself to glance at the head of the table, where his brother was sitting. If she dared look at him, she knew her heart would start pounding and she needed to keep her concentration.

Christian slowly turned his head towards Elliot, his lips firmly pursed.

"What's going on?" Kate demanded. Her brows came together in the middle of her forehead. "Is it Ana? Is she okay?"

"Ana's fine," Christian nodded, quick to settle her doubts. He slid his hand across the table to where his cell phone was sitting. He tapped his fingers on the blank screen, as if it was a direct connection to his one true love. "I checked in on her just a few minutes ago. She's at work. She's fine."

Kate breathed a sigh of relief.

Since the incident at Maîtrise, even the slightest concern about Ana's welfare triggered anxiety in both Kate and Christian. Ana had been wrapped in cotton wool for a long time after the attack, but slowly Christian had succumbed to her wishes to finally start work at Seattle Independent Publishers. She was desperate to regain some control over her life and Christian was happy to oblige. He knew how important control was in the aftermath of trauma.

It didn't stop him from texting her a hundred times throughout the day, however. To some people that would sound excessive, but for Christian it was necessary. It was the only thing that kept him calm.

"But this is about Ana," Christian added. He turned his head to Elliot again, as if looking for moral support. "Something happened this morning and it's changed things slightly."

Kate forced her eyes towards Elliot, confusion beginning to consume her. He was slouched in his seat but despite his aloof mannerism, his eyes betrayed him. She found his usually boyish features impassive and serious.

As she had predicted, her pulse quickened. It pained Kate how much of an affect he still had on her. They had mostly avoided each other in recent weeks, but remained friendly when they were in the same room. Kate knew she wouldn't tread that line with Elliot again. He had put an end to their budding romance. That was all she needed to know. He clearly wasn't interested.

Elliot nodded at Christian, urging him to continue.

"I'm going to need your help with something," Christian began, drawing his grey gaze back to Kate. His eyes looked tired and more creased than usual. "I need you to keep an eye on Ana for me."

Kate's frown deepened. "Why?"

"Because I need to know she's safe when I'm not with her," he replied.

"Isn't that why she has her own personal security detail?"

"Yes," Christian sighed. "But it's important that she doesn't feel suffocated. I know she hates feeling like she's being watched 24-7. If you're with her, she won't feel like she's being checked on and I'll know she's safe."

While Kate appreciated his trust in her, she still didn't understand what was going on.

"I have something I need to deal with," Christian said coyly. "It's going to take up a fair amount of my time, so while I'm pursuing this I need to know Ana isn't being neglected in any way."

"Okay, I have _so_ many questions," Kate shook her head at him. "But first of all, how am I supposed to be with Ana all the time when we're both working?"

"It won't be all the time," he said. "I'm not going to let anything come between me and Ana. But, on occasion, I might need to focus on this."

"And that's where I come in?"

He nodded.

"So what's going on?" Kate asked. She held his stare. "If I'm going to be a part of this, whatever it is, I need to know what's happening."

Christian inhaled a deep breath and glanced at Elliot.

"She has a right to know," Elliot told him. "She'll find out sooner or later anyway."

"I know," Christian huffed. He lifted his hand to his face and pinched the bridge of his nose. "I just wish I hadn't got that fucking call this morning."

Kate hesitated and looked between the two brothers.

If Christian was going to devote his time to something other than Ana, it would have to be serious.

A horrible feeling settled in the pit of her stomach.

"You're not sick, are you?" she worried, dropping her voice to a whisper. "You're not –"

"No," Christian grunted, shaking his head immediately. "No, I'm not sick. It's nothing like that."

"Thank God," Kate blew out her cheeks. _At least that's something_ … "So what the hell is it then?"

Elliot stretched across to Christian and placed a hand on his forearm.

"You got this," he muttered.

Christian slowly lifted his chin and met Kate's eye. His jaw clenched.

"The woman who tried to kill Ana," he began. "She was my business partner."

"I know," Kate nodded.

"We had a sexual relationship," he sighed. Kate's brows shot up her forehead. "It ended many years ago, long before I met Ana."

"Right…"

"She seduced me when I was fifteen," he revealed. He reeled back his shoulders, preparing to say the words out loud for the first time. "She abused me."

"What?" Kate gasped, her hand flying up to her mouth. "Christian –"

"She controlled me for years," he continued. His voice strengthened the more he spoke. "She controlled everything – the women I had affairs with, my relationship with my family, my business deals. Everything. I didn't see it at the time but my eyes opened when Ana came into my life. She made me see that it was wrong."

"Is that why she tried to hurt Ana?" Kate muttered. Her throat had become dry, making her voice gravelly. "Did she know you and Ana were a couple?"

Christian nodded. "She saw Ana as a threat. She knew I was starting to pull away from her, so she decided that the only way she could keep hold of me was to get rid of Ana."

"Jesus Christ –"

He lowered his eyes to the table. Kate followed his gaze and saw he was staring at a black, leather bound notebook.

"When the police told me she'd died in the fire, I was relieved," he said. "I thought, finally, I can move on with my life. I identified her fucking body to make sure it was actually her. I smiled when I left that room, knowing that she couldn't torment us again."

"But...?"

"Like the monster she was, somehow she's found a way to fuck with me from beyond the grave," he grimaced.

"What do you mean?"

"That –" He nodded at the notebook. "It belonged to her."

"And why do you have it?"

"Her attorney called me this morning," he explained. "She had the foresight to organise a will and the bitch left everything to me."

"What? Are you serious?"

He arched his brow at her. Kate backed down, holding up her hand.

"She left everything to me. Her house, the businesses, all of her assets," he grunted, scrunching his nose in disgust. "She had a safety deposit box. Her attorney delivered the contents of it earlier. That notebook was the only thing in it."

"Why would she leave you a notebook?"

"I don't think she intended on Christian seeing it," Elliot piped up. He sat forward in his seat. "We read her will and it didn't say anything about the box and believe me, she listed everything she owned. I think her attorney just factored the box into her assets."

Kate paused, ribbing her lip between her teeth. Her eyes settled on the book, the mere sight of it making her skin crawl.

"What's in it?" she asked hesitantly.

"Details of every sexual relationship she had," Christian huffed. He rubbed his cheek with his fingers, the harshness of his touch making his skin turn red. "Names, dates, what she did with them."

"She kept details?"

"Graphic details," he nodded. "I'm in there."

Kate closed her eyes. She shuddered. She had never even met the woman and she hated her with a passion.

"I didn't want to look at it but I couldn't stop myself," Christian explained. "She listed everyone from me to the detective she was using. She also included our ages and personal details."

She slowly opened her eyes and met Christian's gaze once more. His eyes were a cloudy mix of sadness and anger.

"I'm glad I looked," he said. "Because now I know what I need to do. What needs to happen to gain some closure from this nightmare."

"You weren't the only kid she abused, were you?" Kate guessed.

Christian shook his head.

"She tried to seduce Elliot before me but he turned her down," he replied. "From what I've read so far, she preyed on at least two other boys after I ended our affair."

Tears began to well in Kate's eyes. She was sickened to her core.

"My God, Christian…" she sighed, shaking her head. "You need to take that to the police."

"After the way they've treated us?" he shot back, frowning hard. "The detective supposedly leading the investigation turned out to be her fucking toy boy. No, I am not letting those bastards handle this. I won't let them fuck this up. It's too important."

Kate shrunk back under the force of his words.

"I'm going to deal with this myself," he declared. "The police won't be able to do shit anyway. From the dates she had these affairs, it's past the statute of limitations… and she's dead. How can the police possibly help now, after all these years?"

"I don't know, but I don't think you should be –"

"I have to track them down," he said with a sigh. "I need to make sure they get the help they need. She fucked with my head, God knows what she did to them."

"But how –"

"Kate, she tried to kill Ana," he persisted, needing to justify his decision. "She tortured José. She was a fucking monster. I need to make sure that any of her other victims get the help they need. The help they deserve."

Kate nodded her head, understanding his urge to seek out these men. She looked down at the notebook and blinked slowly, a single tear tumbling down her cheek.

"Here –"

She raised her chin and saw Elliot reaching out to her, a tissue in his hand. He smiled.

"Thank you," she whispered. She dabbed the tissue to her cheek. "I had no idea about any of this. I knew she was evil from what she did to Ana and José but…"

"It took me a long time to come to my senses," Christian nodded. "I need to at least find these men and see if they need help."

"What kind of help do you think they'd need?"

"Therapy," he shrugged. "I've been in therapy for years but it's only recently I've begun reassessing my relationship with her. Before this I had only ever discussed my childhood."

Christian had revealed his childhood trauma to Kate during their interview, while Ana was in hospital. To know that he had suffered not once, but twice at the hands of an abuser… Kate didn't understand how he was still sitting there in front of her, seeming so normal and composed.

"Does Ana know about this?" she asked.

"She knows about my past and what happened with _her_ –" he glanced at the book again. "But my parents don't know yet. I'm still trying to find the right time to tell them."

Kate looked across to Elliot and he nodded his head, as if trying to assure her that Christian wouldn't have to face that conversation alone. She had seen the two brothers grow close over the past few weeks, Christian's diary now full of meetings between the siblings.

"Ana doesn't know about the book," Christian confirmed. "I don't want her to know, either. She's still too fragile. I don't want to undo the progress she's made with her therapist."

"But this affects her too," she reminded him. "She's going to wonder why you're distracted, why you're not spending all your free time with her."

"I'll let her think it's just business," he said. "I won't lie to Ana but I will protect her from something that could upset her. I can't risk her health in any way."

Kate understood. They had all been watching Ana's mood, checking for the slightest change in her. Although she smiled and laughed every day, everybody knew she was harbouring deep guilt over what happened to José. She blamed herself for what happened to him.

Christian pursed his lips and fell into his thoughts for a moment. Doubt settled between his brows.

"Will she hate me for keeping this from her?" he asked Kate.

"She won't hate you," she shook her head. "But I think you should consider telling her about this at some point. She's been through a lot, but she's stronger than any of us give her credit for."

"I know," he sighed, agreeing with her. "I just want to free us of Elena Lincoln's ghost, once and for all."

"Then do what you need to do," Kate told him. "I'll help in whatever way I can. Whether it's keeping Ana busy or helping you find these men. I want to help."

"Thank you," Christian smiled. "I really appreciate that."

"I won't breathe a word of this to anyone," she promised. "And not just because you made me sign an NDA."

Her quip brought a gentle but much needed laugh into the room.

"Right," Kate announced, clapping her hands together. She inhaled a deep breath and released it hard and fast. "Is there anything else we need to talk about?"

"No, that was everything," Christian shook his head. "Thank you again."

"In that case, I should get back to work," she smiled. "My boss will have a bitch fit if I'm caught slacking."

"I have never had a bitch fit in my life!" Christian shot back.

"You have," Elliot chimed in, chuckling to himself. "Bro, you take having a bitch fit to a whole new level."

Christian rolled his eyes and pushed back in his seat.

"Get back to work, Kavanagh," he ordered, only just managing to suppress his smirk. "I don't pay you to sit around talking all day."

"Yes, sir," Kate saluted him and rose to her feet. She pushed her chair back under the table and raised her gaze to Elliot. "It was nice seeing you again."

"You too," he smiled back at her, his entire face lighting up.

Kate smiled and excused herself from the room, closing the door behind her.

The office remained still for several minutes, the brothers comfortable in the silence.

"I can't believe you told her," Elliot mumbled. "I didn't think you'd actually tell about you and bitchface."

"I have to start talking about it some time," Christian shrugged. "Sooner or later the truth will come out, whether I like it or not."

"Mom and Dad are next on the list," Elliot reminded him. "I'll talk to Mia, if you want. Save you having to tell her."

"Thank you," Christian sighed again, grateful for the reprieve. He knew how Mia would react to the news and he wasn't looking forward to her hysterics.

Christian stared at Elliot for a second, studying his expression. It was one he had recognised on himself in the early days of his relationship with Ana.

"You really like her, don't you?"

"Who?" Elliot frowned.

"Really?" Christian tilted his head. He gestured towards the door. "It's clear as day you like her. I thought you said it was just fun between you and her?"

"It was," Elliot shrugged. He leaned forward and dropped his elbows onto the table. "I don't know. I just can't seem to shake it off, you know? I can feel it in here –" He lifted a hand to his chest and rubbed it hard. "It's kinda painful how much I want her."

"That feeling doesn't go away," Christian snorted. "Believe me. The way I feel about Ana, it's the most painful feeling I've ever experienced in my life… but it's the most incredible one too."

"What is it with these girls? Worming their way into our lives."

"Ana didn't worm her way in," Christian shook his head. "She smashed through every God damn barrier I had up. She completely broke me with just one kiss."

Elliot was surprised to hear his brother speak so candidly. He couldn't help but grin.

"And she's helping to rebuild you," he nodded. He pointed his finger at Christian. "I swear if you don't marry her someday, it won't just be Mom you'll have to worry about."

Christian dipped his chin and smiled to himself.

"You know Mom's already shopping for a new hat," Elliot joked. "She's waiting for you to pop the question."

"I know," Christian hummed. "I could see wedding bells in her eyes the second she met Ana."

"It's because we can see what she's done to you. You're a different man to how you were before she came along."

Christian grinned.

"She's pretty special, isn't she?"

"She's the one," Christian nodded. He held Elliot's stare, his smile lifting higher across his face. "I know she's the one."

"What are you waiting for then?" Elliot shook his head. "Go get your girl!"


	2. Chapter One

**A/N: Thank you for the amazing support and feedback on the prologue. I'm glad so many of you are excited to see how this story will develop! I can't wait to share my plans with you. :) I hope you enjoy this chapter!**

 **Much Love,**

 **Chelsea x**

* * *

 **GB** – Thank you! That's wonderful of you to say. I really hope you enjoy this story. I've had fun planning it! Much Love x

 **Colby** – Thank you! I'm glad you liked it. I really hope you enjoy this chapter! Much Love x

 **Rustyarbor51** – I'm glad you checked too! Thank you! Hope you like this chapter. Much Love x

* * *

 _Count to ten… Take a deep breath…_

I closed my eyes and tried to regain my concentration. I filled my lungs until they hurt, letting the breath out slow and even. My fingers were poised on my keyboard, ready to reply to the many emails I had received over the course of the morning.

Buzz. Buzz.

I glanced down at my phone as it danced along my desk. I didn't need to check who the latest message was from, it being just one in a long thread of texts he sends me every day. Yet, despite the fact he is distracting me from my work and tasks that need completing urgently, I couldn't help but smile in the mere knowledge that he was thinking about me.

Turning my head to the window, I looked out at the skyline and honed in on the tallest building in view. Grey House stood proud and mighty above everything else, and I grinned at the thought of my boyfriend – my Christian – sitting at his desk, fiddling with his phone, desperate for that connection to me.

 **I hope your day is going well. Working hard? C x**

I felt the hairs at the back of my neck rise, as if his fingers had just smoothed their way across my already flushed skin.

 _I am working hard. Or at least, I'm trying to. But someone keeps distracting me… ;-) My day is going well, very busy with preparations for tonight. Nerves are already kicking in x_

 **I'm your favourite kind of distraction! Ana, don't worry about tonight. Everything will be fine. You've got this. C x**

I wished I had his confidence. I was rattling with a mix of nerves and excitement.

Tonight will be my first opportunity to prove my worth at Seattle Independent Publishers and I am determined not to screw it up.

I officially joined the company just four weeks ago, having finally convinced both Christian and my boss that I was ready to step into my role as editor. I had had enough of sitting around at home, feeling sorry for myself. I needed to be doing something with my time. I needed something to focus on.

Of course, I was anxious to join SIP. I was just a lowly bartender, it was a huge leap into the world of publishing. Especially into a senior role. Without any experience. I knew that I had to prove myself from the get-go. My boss, Mark Griffin, had taken a chance on me and I didn't want to let him down. He had been amazing during the whole Maîtrise nightmare. While I was worried that having to push back my start date would cause me to lose a job I hadn't even started, all Mark was concerned about was whether I was okay. He was supportive and caring, something that hasn't changed now I am part of the team. I was racked with nerves on my first day, but they quickly disappeared as both Mark and my colleagues embraced me into the SIP family.

But now? The nerves are back with vengeance.

My phone buzzed again.

 **I have a meeting with Kate in five minutes, need to go over some PR crap. I'll check in with you again when I'm done. I love you. C x**

I smiled as I thought of him and Kate working together on GEH's latest project. Kate was thriving in her position at the centre of Christian's budding PR department. Better still, she was loving every minute of it. Now she was finally away from the newspaper and the ties linking her to her unbearable father, Kate had started to relax and rebuild her confidence. It was great to see her smile again.

 _Have fun! Tell Kate I said hi. I love you too x_

I set my phone down and pushed it aside. I didn't know how long his meeting with Kate would last, but I needed to make the most of every second of uninterrupted time. My to-do list was getting ridiculously long.

Tonight is the launch party for _A Breath of Fresh Eyre_ , the novel I had copy-edited prior to starting at SIP. Having impressed Mark with my speed and accuracy in editing the manuscript, he had allowed me to lead the process of actually taking the book to print. I was thrilled at the opportunity, but I didn't quite realise just how enormous a task it was. Liaising with the author and trying to keep her happy. Tracking down and creating a list of bloggers and critics to send advanced copies to. Promoting the book on SIP's social media to generate hype prior to its release. And finally, organising the launch itself. There was catering, invitations, press to plan and co-ordinate. It was a lot for just one person to tackle.

It wasn't just the launch and publication that had been an ordeal. Revisiting the manuscript itself was difficult. Borderline painful.

The novel is a re-imagining of _Jane Eyre_ , my favourite novel, and I knew all too well that my life had ran parallel with the events of that story in recent months: the madwoman threatening to destroy the lovers' happiness, the all-consuming fire that rips the couple apart and changes their life irrevocably. It was too close for comfort. The re-imagining had taken all of these ideas and exaggerated them, adding an even more sinister twist to the original. I could hardly read the lengthy descriptions of the fire.

There are times when I can't escape my memories of Maîtrise and its demise. I can still hear the crackle of flames as they licked across the floor. I can still smell charcoal and burning flesh. I break out in goosebumps every time I think about that day - when I think about how close I was to succumbing to the same fate as Leila Williams and the bitch troll herself.

The fire had been an important point of discussion in my sessions with Dr Flynn. We revisited it often. I had wanted to keep a lid on everything, didn't want to go down the therapy route, but Christian convinced me to at least try it. He assured me that therapy would help and, somewhat annoyingly, I think he was right. I still feel exhausted after every session, but I can feel myself growing a fraction stronger as the weeks go by. The nightmares have long since stopped. The flashbacks are lessening. Each day is a struggle but I am able to look ahead to my future. To my future with Christian.

He is my future.

"Got a second?"

I yanked my head up and stared at the door, startled by the loud knocking and cheerful voice pulling me from my reverie.

"Of course," I said eagerly, sitting upright in my chair. "Take a seat."

Mark waltzed into my office, carrying a large bouquet of white and pink roses in a delicately carved vase. He was grinning from ear-to-ear as he moved forward and placed the vase down on my desk. His cherubic smile was infectious, lighting up his dark eyes.

"These just arrived for you," he hummed, taking a moment to admire the bloom and luxurious scent that was now wafting through my office. His long, curly hair bounced against his forehead as he bowed to sniff the roses. "Sweet Jesus… Damn, I wish I had someone buying me expensive flowers. All I get around here is a bloody headache and the pick of leftovers from staff meetings!"

I blushed as I took in the perfectly arranged bouquet. Mark dipped his hand into the middle of the bunch and removed a small white envelope, handing it over to me. Inside was one of Christian's business cards, his handwriting etched on the back in blue ink.

 ** _…_** ** _because I love you and I love spoiling you._**

 ** _I'm so proud of you. I can't wait to see you tonight._**

 ** _Your Christian x_**

"Have you got a secret admirer or is it that gorgeous boyfriend of yours?" Mark asked. I looked up at him and smiled. He sighed. "He's perfect, isn't he? He's actually perfect."

"What can I say, I'm a lucky girl," I hummed, setting down the card and moving the vase into a suitable position on my desk. "He's coming to the launch tonight."

Mark's brows shot high up his forehead, an excited smirk spreading across his full lips. He had taken an instant fascination with Christian when they met after my first day here. If my boss wasn't already in a long-term relationship and Christian wasn't straight, I had no doubts Mark would be all over him like a rash. It was something that made me grin. My boyfriend is irresistible to everyone.

"Let's hope he's wearing one of those incredible three-piece suits," Mark pouted. "Jeez, it should be illegal for anyone to look as good as him… Talking about the launch, I'm actually here to discuss that with you."

"Oh, okay –"

"Don't look so worried," he shook his head and laughed. "All I want is an update on the final plans. Just so I'm kept in the loop."

I blew out a relieved sigh and licked my lips. "Sure, no problem," I nodded. "Shall we start with how I've arranged the lobby and downstairs?"

"Take it away, Maestro," Mark grinned and pulled up a seat.

* * *

I rocked from side-to-side, continually adjusting my stance in a bid to alleviate the burning sensation in my feet. My shoes were starting to pinch at the back of my heels and I could feel blisters swelling around my toes. I had been trying to break them in all day, having bought them to match my dress. _Why are new shoes always so damn painful?_

I had stuffed my purse with a change of clothes before I left the apartment this morning, knowing I wouldn't have time to go home between the end of the working day and the launch. My dress was knee-length with a deep V cut into the neckline, and had capped sleeves hemmed with lace. It was navy in colour, the same rich shade as my heels, and speckled with small, white polka dots. I had pulled my hair back into a messy bun, a few wavy tendrils hanging around my face. Even I had to admit that I looked good – but only if I'm not grimacing because of my bloodied toes!

"Where would you like these?"

I turned on the spot and found one of the marketing interns carrying a silver platter full of sweet treats and desserts.

"In room 2, please," I told him. "Refreshments are in there. When you're finished with that, can you help Marnie and James with the seating in room 4? Thanks!"

The intern nodded and trudged down the hallway, disappearing around the corner. The first floor of the building had been transformed into the main hub of the party. I had enlisted the help of my colleagues in this final stage of the preparations, my plans starting to come together.

I stood in the middle of the lobby and looked around the room, smiling to myself.

"Wow –" Mark's voice rang out across the room. He was standing on the stairwell, his eyes scanning the place. "Fantastic idea to have posters of our upcoming publications on display!"

"Thanks," I grinned. "I figured it was a chance to promote them, get some more interest."

"I have to make a few calls and then I'll come help you with the final touches."

"No problem," I nodded. "Is there anything else you can think of? Anything I might have missed?"

"Relax, Ana," Mark shook his head and flashed me a sweet smile. "You've got everything under control. You're doing great."

He gave me a thumbs-up before bounding back upstairs.

I let out a long sigh and leaned back against the nearest wall, stealing a second for myself. I closed my eyes and relaxed my shoulders. A warm, tingly sensation began to trickle down my spine, starting at the nape of my neck and oozing its way to my feet.

It never ceased to amaze me how my body instinctively knew whenever Christian was around.

I rolled my head towards the small reception area at the entrance of the building and, sure enough, he was there. It took him a second to find me, his eyes darting around until they settled on mine.

"Hey beautiful," he purred as he sauntered towards me, his lips smirking around the words. His arms snaked around my waist and peeled me from the wall, pulling me into his chest. "God, I've missed you."

"You say that like you haven't seen me in weeks," I snorted.

"I've had a stressful day, so it feels like it's been weeks," he sighed. He nuzzled his face into my neck, stooping down to bring himself closer to my height. "You smell incredible."

I giggled and pushed my arms around his back, hugging him tight.

"It's the perfume you bought me," I said.

He sniffed hard and let out a moan. " _La Petite Robe Noire_... It smells gorgeous on you."

"What are you doing here?" I asked, tilting my head back to see his face.

"You invited me," he mumbled, smiling down at me.

"I know that, I meant what are you doing here now? You're early. I wasn't expecting you for another hour or so."

"Like I said, it's been a tough day," he shrugged his shoulders. He brought his left hand to my cheek and rolled his thumb across my lips. "I wanted to be with you."

I pushed up onto my toes and offered him a kiss. "I still have a lot to do. I'm going to be all over the place tonight so I –"

"Ana," he breathed, shushing me into silence. "I know this a work event. I'm here for moral support. Just being here, in the same room as you, is enough for me."

I relaxed at his complete understanding and support. When I had asked him to come to the launch, I was apprehensive that he would be bored senseless. It was selfish, my reason for inviting him. I knew that I would need some extra reassurance, the kind only he can give me. I had grinned wildly when he accepted the invitation without a moment of hesitation.

"I'll keep out of your way," he said. He pressed another soft kiss to my mouth. "Are we still on for dinner later? I've made reservations."

"I don't know what time I'll be done –"

"I reserved a table for the whole night, I didn't give them a time," he explained. "We'll go whenever you're finished here… Now, get back to whatever it was you were doing. I don't want your boss getting mad at me if you're caught slacking off."

"As if Mark could ever be mad at you," I snorted, rolling my eyes. "It's a wonder he hasn't come running down here already."

"I can't help it if I'm irresistible," he quipped, exciting a giggle from me.

If only he knew how true that statement was. Christian refuses to accept just how handsome he is. He doesn't see what the rest of us do.

"I'll be right over there," he smiled, pointing towards the row of chairs that had been set up along the back wall of the reception area. "Waiting for you."

"I'm glad you're here," I whispered.

"Me too," he nodded.

After one more kiss, he stepped back and retreated down the hall. I watched as he picked a chair and dropped down onto it, Taylor quickly appearing at his side.

Christian hunched forward slightly and reached inside his jacket pocket, pulling out a black notebook. He began flicking through its pages, showing something to Taylor. They shared a few words before Christian snapped his head in my direction, our gaze meeting again.

His lips curled into a smile and he mouthed 'I love you' to me. He waved his hand, urging me to get back to work. I rolled my eyes and laughed, picking up my heels and heading off in the direction of the board rooms.

* * *

By nine o'clock I was thoroughly exhausted, everything south of my knees aching and begging for a hot bath. My head was whirling with a buzz I hadn't experienced in a long time, a feeling I couldn't quite describe or place.

I was stood by the exit, saying goodbye to some of the journalists and critics who had joined us. I was happy to see them excitedly talking about their signed copies of the book.

"You should be very proud of yourself," Mark muttered as he appeared at my side. "I don't know how you've done all of this on your own, but you have smashed it out of the park! You've managed to generate so much interest. I wasn't expecting so many people here tonight!"

I didn't want to admit to Mark that a lot of the initial interest in the launch stemmed from my relationship with Christian.

After his interview with Kate, when he announced our relationship to the world, there had been a lot of media interest and fascination in our lives. The first few weeks were the toughest. So many articles had been written about us, most of it untrue and mere speculation. We couldn't go anywhere without photographers jumping out and taking pictures of us. More recently, however, they had stepped back and moved onto more interesting people, but the average Joe was still craving snippets of Christian and his mysterious life. When I listed the launch party online for people to request tickets, we had predicted approximately forty-five guests max. The final numbers were closer to 150. I doubted everyone here tonight came purely for a neo-Victorian novel set in rural Scotland…

"If there was any doubt as to why I hired you, you've proved everyone wrong tonight," Mark added. He patted his hand on my shoulder.

"I was really worried I'd miss something," I admitted.

"You need to have more faith in yourself," he said. "I will confess that tonight was kind of a test. I like to throw people in at the deep end to see how they cope with the pressure. You've impressed all of us with how easily you have become part of the team."

"Thank you. I really love it here. I feel like I've finally found my calling."

"I'm glad," he nodded. "I know it must have been difficult, after everything you went through at your last job. But you know my door is always open if you need someone to talk to… I'll even share my secret stash of chocolate with you. And believe me, I don't do that for just anyone."

I wrapped my arms around him and hugged him tight. I would never be able to thank him enough for giving me this opportunity, or for being so kind and generous to me. I had gone from the boss from hell to an angel sent straight from heaven.

"You can head home if you want, I can finish up here," Mark told me.

"Are you sure?"

"Positive," he hummed. He broke our hug and gave me another grin. "Seriously, you need to take that boyfriend of yours home. I'm one glass of champagne away from asking for his number."

I smiled and nodded my head, thanking him.

"Take the morning off," he added. "If I see you come through these doors before noon, I'll make you buy everyone lunch."

I held up my hands and agreed to his request, backing away and into the throng of people still hovering in the lobby. They were loitering not too far from Christian, only keeping their distance because Taylor was standing guard, flanked by Sawyer.

It had taken a lot of convincing to get Sawyer to return to working for me. He was adamant that he had failed me, that he wasn't up to the task of keeping me safe. I didn't blame him for what happened at the club. Christian held a grudge, though. He didn't want Sawyer back, only relenting after I put my foot down and refused to let it go. Although, I did have to compromise on one thing.

In order for Sawyer to come back, I had to accept a second security detail. And I had no say in who Christian chose.

Jazmin Grande stood a few paces away from Sawyer, her eyes scanning the room for potential dangers. She was always on top form, her concentration never slipping. She was nearly six foot tall and was built like an Amazonian goddess with her maple-syrup hued skin and wide, golden eyes. Her hair was long and jet-black, teased into tight braids that began at her forehead and ran all the way down her back. She was dressed in her usual black jeans, white shirt and brown leather jacket. Christian had put her in charge of my security, Sawyer answerable to her. She was a nice enough woman, if not a little intimidating at times.

She insisted on being called Jaz, as opposed to her surname. I imagined it was because people would make jokes about their Starbucks orders.

Jaz and Sawyer didn't see eye-to-eye, often butting heads throughout the day. I sometimes feel like a rose between two thorns…

I walked over to Christian and slipped my arm around his waist. His face instantly lit up as he looked down at me, his mouth splitting into a grin.

"Are you ready to go?" he asked, hopeful. I nodded and he leaned down to the seat behind him, picking up my jacket and purse that he had been looking after for me. "Great. You must be starving."

"I'm a little hungry," I hummed in agreement.

I pulled on my jacket as we made our way out of the building, Christian's hand firmly on the base of my spine. June was shaping up to be a good month, summer finally on the horizon and bringing with it warm air and significantly less rain. I looked forward to summer nights on the balcony outside our bedroom, sipping wine and cuddling…

"You did an amazing job," he said, drawing me into his side. His lips found my temple. "The launch seemed like a huge success. Your boss certainly looked impressed with you."

"He is," I nodded. "So, you weren't bored out of your mind? I know this isn't your kind of thing."

"It's not, but I wasn't here for the free drinks or a copy of the book," he smiled. He spun me to face him, one hand on my back and the other cupping the nape of my neck. "I'm here for you. I'd happily watch paint dry just so long as I'm with you."

My stomach tensed, my skin tingling under the weight of his words. He always knows the right thing to say. For a man who never used to show emotion like this, he's a master of seduction and tenderness.

"Come on, let's get in the car," he said, directing me towards his brand new R8 that was parked a few paces ahead of us.

Although this car looked identical to his previous, Christian assured me that it was an upgrade and a million times better than the original. The damages to the first R8 had been irreparable, the dents too deep to extract and the red Maîtrise paint completely ruined the paintwork. Christian was annoyed when his car was trashed at the hands of Detective Wright's junkie friend, but his mood lifted when its replacement was delivered. The only obvious difference between the two cars was the interior – the all-leather upholstery is now slate grey instead of black.

Christian unlocked the car and I let myself in, closing the door behind me and quickly fastening my belt. He slipped into the driver's seat and brought the car to life, a gentle purr emanating from the powerful engine. He took a few seconds to set about his routine – checking his mirrors, making sure my seatbelt was correctly buckled, revving the engine twice before driving off from the sidewalk. I love his quirks. I love the kinks that define him.

"The novelty hasn't worn off, has it?" I asked. He threw me a glance, a slight frown between his brows. "Your new toy," I clarified, pointing at the wheel. "You're obsessed with this car."

"I wouldn't say I'm obsessed," he chuckled, shaking his head. "I like it. It's faster than my last one. It's a smoother drive."

"Can I drive it sometime?"

He slowed down as we approached a red light, the black SUV carrying the others hot on our tail. Christian eyed me, a worried look quickly passing over his eyes.

"I've never driven a sportscar before," I told him. "Let's face it, my VW wasn't built for driving over forty miles an hour."

My voice was tinged with sadness as I thought back to dear Wanda. She was a gift from Ray, to celebrate the fact I had gotten into WSU. She was the only thing I had ever owned outright. Yes, she was old and battered and falling apart, but she was mine and I loved her. A piece of me died with her that afternoon in Christian's garage, seeing her covered in paint and pieces hanging off her. I knew there and then that she was destined for the scrapheap. She had been towed to Elliot's auto-shop later that day and has been laying dormant there ever since.

"Are you ready to start driving again?" Christian asked.

"I miss it," I nodded.

"Okay," he hummed. He turned his eyes back to the road. "I'll buy you a new car. We can go for a test drive at the weekend, pick one out."

"You don't have to buy me a car," I told him. He was about to protest but I continued. "I have my own money. Besides, I still remember the contract. Your contract. I know you used to buy your submissives cars."

"That was different," he shot back. His fingers curled around the wheel, his knuckles whitening. He was uncomfortable talking about this. "It was about convenience. If they didn't live close by, I needed to ensure they had transport so we could meet."

"Okay."

"I don't want you to compare yourself to them," he added. His tone was sharp. "You have never been and never will be my sub. You're my girlfriend."

"I know but –"

"If I want to buy you a car, I will," he protested. "It's not about the money, you know that. I don't care what car you drive or what colour you want it in, just for the love of god let me pay for it. All I ask is that it's a damn sight more reliable than that fucking monstrosity you used to drive!"

I didn't press him on the matter, instead choosing to let it go. He wasn't going to change his mind.

It used to bother me that he had this incessant urge to shower me in his wealth, until I realised that he only shares it with those he holds dear to him. He threw money at his subs to keep them in his playroom, but his wealth isn't about money at all. His wealth is his life, the pieces of him that he kept hidden for years.

I appreciated his desire to share his life with me, but I didn't want him to ever think I was interested in his money. However, sometimes it was easier not to argue with him.

"I can choose the car?" I asked, rolling my head against my seat to look at him again. "You won't tell me which one to pick?"

"I'll give you my opinion," he shrugged. "But the final choice is yours. Just as long as it's safe and reliable."

"You're seriously going to let me take control over a decision like that?"

"You're the only person in the world I will happily give control to," he said. He glanced at me and smiled, the expression reaching his eyes and making them twinkle. "You're the only person I trust enough to do that to."

I reached across and placed my hand on his thigh, my fingers dancing against his taut muscle.

He twitched and shifted in his seat.

"You're receptive tonight," I giggled. "Are you sure you're going to make it through dinner?"

He cleared his throat and clenched his jaw, fixing a hard look on his face. He gulped and pressed a button on the wheel, switching on the sound system. Maroon 5's 'This Love' swirled around us, the song making me grin. I squeezed his thigh once more before bringing my hand back into my lap. I smirked as I saw him tug at his pants, trying to relieve the bulging in his crotch.

Looks like dinner will be an exercise in self-control, Mr Grey...


	3. Chapter Two

**A/N: Hello Lovelies! I really hope you enjoy this chapter. Things are about to get a little saucy between our favourite couple! :)**

 **I just want to send all my well wishes to everyone in Florida and nearby states who are currently being affected by the hurricane. I hope you're all safe and get through the storm without too much damage. I'm keeping everything crossed for you!**

 **Much Love,**

 **Chelsea x**

* * *

 **DoloresDeeHowe** \- Thank you! I'm really glad you're enjoying it so far. I hope Christian can track down these men too! I hope you enjoy this chapter. Much Love x

 **Susan** \- Thank you! I really hope you enjoy this chapter too. Much Love x

 **SuzB** \- Thank you, my lovely! Yes, all of the links to Jane Eyre were intentional. I was actually in the middle of writing my Masters thesis on Jane Eyre when I decided to bring it into Maîtrise! I'm glad you spotted all of the references. :) I really hope you like this chapter! Much Love x

 **Tillie** \- Thank you! I love this version of Christian too. :) Much Love x

* * *

Christian brought the car to a stop outside the guarded entrance to a tall, curved building. The bricked exterior gave the impression that it spiralled high into the air, lines of circles wrapping around it, almost hypnotic with its black, white and grey colours.

Before I could ask where we were, my door was opened by an impeccably dressed valet. I didn't accept his hand, choosing instead to haul myself from the car.

Christian smiled as he met me on the sidewalk.

"That's my girl," he hummed, sliding his hand across the base of my spine. "Shall we head inside?"

I nodded and let him guide me towards the entrance. We passed through the frosted glass doors, Christian simply nodding his head to the heavy-set guard who let us inside.

"Mr Grey!"

As soon as we entered the lobby, a small man in a tuxedo raced towards us. His eyes were fixed on Christian and he had the overall demeanour of a young child eager to please a parent. Pretty much a normal reaction most people have whenever Christian enters a room...

"How wonderful to see you again, sir," he jeered, grinning hard. "Would you like me to –"

"We're dining upstairs," Christian said, cutting the man off with a flick of his hand. "We don't need any assistance."

"Of course, no problem at all," the man nodded, his voice laden with disappointment. He backed up a step and held his arm out. "You know where I am, should you need anything."

Christian grunted a response and gently urged me forward, leading me off to the right. I glanced around the lobby, admiring the extravagance and luxury surrounding us. White flowers hung from the ceiling like chandeliers, the smell of jasmine emanating from them. The floor was perfectly polished marble, pure black, lined with gold. There were couches dotted around, occupied by men in pressed suits and women dripping in diamonds. I tugged at my jacket, feeling somewhat under-dressed.

Taylor pushed ahead and rang for the elevator. I skulked into the corner of the elevator, leaning against the rails. Christian clung to me, his hand on my hip and drawing me into his side. Taylor pressed for the top floor, instinctively knowing where we were headed.

"Where are we?" I asked, raising my chin to Christian.

"This is Hartford House," he replied. "It's a private members club."

I gulped hard, a cold shiver trickling down my spine.

Christian's eyes widened and he quickly lifted his free hand. He turned to face me squarely.

"It's not that kind of club," he promised, his grey eyes fixed on my fearful blues. "It's nothing like Maîtrise. It's an exclusive club, health and beauty, bars and restaurants, that kind of thing."

"R-Right…"

"I promise there's nothing sinister here," he assured me. He raised both his hands to the back of my neck, his fingers slowing kneading and massaging the muscles tensing there. "I like one of the restaurants they have here, that's all… and I thought you'd prefer to eat somewhere private, where we can actually talk without people eavesdropping."

I understood what he meant by that. There have been times when we have been photographed doing mundane tasks, like eating or picking up takeout on our way home from work. It's not always the paparazzi either. Everyone becomes an amateur photographer with an iPhone in their hands. Some people have even dared to loiter near us, close enough to grasp our conversation. It irritates me but it makes Christian's blood boil. He hates the intrusion.

Yet, despite this, I know he doesn't regret the interview he did with Kate. I know he's glad our relationship is common knowledge, that we're no longer hiding like it's some dirty little secret.

"We can go somewhere else, if you don't feel comfortable being here."

"No, it's fine," I sighed. I buried my head into his chest. "It just made me think of…"

I shook my head and reset my composure. I took some deep breaths and then lifted my head, staring up at him.

"I'm fine. I trust you."

His lips met the top of my head and he whispered reassuring words to me. He was my safety net for whenever those thoughts crept into my mind.

The elevator pinged, the doors opening and Taylor filing out first. We were met with an intricate wrought-iron archway marking the entrance to the restaurant, beyond it softly lit by candles and bustling with happy diners. The air was full of delicious scents, making my stomach growl. I didn't realise just how hungry I was.

Taylor moved aside, waiting by the arch, leaving us to our own devices.

Christian held my hand and led me across the room, signalling to the maître d' that we didn't need any help finding our table. He took me to a booth near some French-style windows, a table that promised privacy and romantic conversations. The small poesy of flowers in the middle of the table and the flickering set of candles brought a smile to my face. I wondered if he asked for these to be placed here, none of the surrounding tables having decorations on them.

"Do you come here often?" I asked as I slid into the booth.

"It's Mia's favourite restaurant," Christian nodded, smiling as he took his place. I grinned as he chose the space at my side, instead of sitting across from me. "When we spend time together, I always bring her here. The food is excellent."

A waiter came over and silently passed us a menu each, flashing a kind smile before circling away.

I frowned as I read the title on the front of the book.

"The Mile High Club?" I glanced at Christian.

"It's the name of the restaurant," he confirmed.

"Seriously?"

He nodded.

"Interesting…" I smirked, a small giggle building in my stomach.

"I think they chose the name because we're on the top floor," he explained, returning my smile. "I doubt they thought of the connotations before they opened for business."

"Is it wrong that I'm thinking people are just screwing in the restrooms?"

"I'm sure you're not the first person to think that," he laughed.

I rested my elbows on the table and admired Christian for a moment. His eyes grazed over the menu, his lips pursing slightly.

"So... have you ever joined the mile high club?"

His brows lowered around his eyes as he glanced up at me.

"Are you asking if I've ever had sex on an airplane?" he asked, as if I could be referring to something else. I nodded. "No, I haven't."

"Really?"

"Really," he nodded. "You seem surprised?"

"I am," I breathed.

 _And a little relieved too…_

I accepted Christian's past as willingly as I accepted every part of him. He had a life before me, he wasn't a virgin when we met. I can handle that. It doesn't change the way I look at him – even though I know he would have had a hard time if he hadn't been my first. I try not to think about the other women he has had sex with, but I acknowledge they exist. They shared a small part of him before I came along... Okay, not _that_ small! But still, I'm glad I have some of his firsts.

I am the only woman he has ever made love to. The only woman to share his bed. The only woman he would run into a burning building for.

"Maybe we can rectify that someday," I muttered, winking at him. His mouth curled into a smirk, his head tilting slightly. "We could put your private jet to good use…"

"Hm, I can think of a lot of uses for the jet," he replied. "Preferably for whisking you away to some deserted island. Just the two of us for a week of sun, sea and relaxation."

I pursed my lips. "Is there a reason you excluded sex from that list?"

"It's a given. I'm a sure thing, baby," he smirked. "Why state the obvious?"

The devilish glint in his gaze had me pressing my thighs together under the table. I could feel my skin growing warmer in sweet anticipation.

The waiter returned to the table, ready to take our orders. Flustered, I tried to focus on the list of dishes but found everything blurring into a jumbled mess.

I turned my head to Christian and shook my head.

"Can you order for me?" I asked quietly. "I just need to use the restroom."

"Are you feeling okay?" he worried, his senses firing with concern.

"I'm fine," I smiled. "I'll be back in a minute."

I excused myself from the booth and headed off in the direction of the Ladies room, the waiter gesturing to the right of the elevators. I walked quickly and with purpose, disappearing into the lavish restroom and heading straight for the mirrors. My breaths were uneven, as rattled as the butterflies swarming through my stomach.

Do I have this effect on him? Does he ever feel this intensely, from just a single glance or a suggestive comment?

My skin was pinking, starting at the base of my throat and spreading across my cheeks. I needed to calm down or it'd be me that doesn't make it through dinner!

It had taken a few weeks after the fire for the intimate side of our relationship to return. Christian had been adamant that he wanted me one hundred percent recovered before he even dared touch me. In a way, I was glad we had that break because when we did climb into bed one afternoon and rediscover each other's bodies, it felt like the first time all over again. It was exciting and electric, my whole body at his mercy. He was protective and gentle, shrouding me in nothing but love.

I smiled as I ran my wrists under the cold water faucet, trying to bring my temperature down. I waited a couple of minutes before drying off and checking my makeup, swiping away my smudged mascara and eyeliner. It was late in the day but at least I still looked presentable.

Christian's gaze was on me as soon as I returned to the restaurant. I didn't need to look up from the floor to know he was staring at me. He watched me like a hawk, barely blinking until I was back in the booth and by his side.

"Did you order?" I asked, grabbing my napkin and placing it on my lap.

"Hmm," he nodded.

"Something wrong?" I frowned.

He looked around the room, his lips pressed together into a hard line.

"Christian?"

"I almost ran over to escort you back to the table."

"Why?"

"Because every man in this room is gawping at you," he huffed.

"I didn't notice," I shrugged. I shook my head at him. "Women stare at you all the time. It doesn't bother me."

"It's the way they are staring at you," he corrected, setting his arm on the table and dragging his eyes back to me. "Imagining themselves getting inside your panties. I don't like it when people look at you in that way. Like you're a piece of meat."

I smiled. The gentleman in him was making an appearance, alongside the green eyed monster…

"Well, I still didn't notice anyone staring," I said. "And anyway, it doesn't matter. No one is getting into my panties."

His eyes narrowed, his head cocking to the left. He leaned back into the booth, his torso sinking into the crushed velvet cushions.

"No one?"

I nodded. "No one."

His tongue ran lazily across his teeth, a veiled attempt to hide a smirk.

"No one is getting into your panties tonight?"

"That's what I said," I hummed back.

"Even me?"

"Even you."

"You'd really deprive me of your body?" he wondered, pouting in that way I love.

"No, I wouldn't," I admitted. I leaned closer to him and dropped my voice to a whisper. "But you can't get into my underwear if I'm not wearing any."

His head reeled back in surprise, his brows shooting up his forehead.

"W-What?" he faltered, blinking fast.

Feeling brazen, I shuffled a touch closer to him and moved the tablecloth aside. I slowly dropped my hand to the hem of my dress and lifted it, affording him a glance. His eyes lowered to the apex of my thighs, his lips parting as he realised I was telling the truth. A small moan crept out of him, the sound making my core clench.

"Fuck…" he sighed, shaking his head. "I regret ordering three fucking courses now."

"We can always find a darkened corner somewhere," I suggested. I reached across and slid my hand up his thigh. "A place like this, there's bound to be somewhere we can –"

He caught my hand and lifted it to his lips. He kissed the tips of my fingers.

"No, I want you in our bed," he mumbled. "We need to eat fast, though…"

* * *

Waiting for the elevator to take us from the garage to the penthouse felt like the longest ride of my life. Christian's hand gripped mine, squeezing at random intervals, his eagerness matching my own.

It still amazed me that this is my home now. I had my own set of keys, my own code for the apartment. All my things were here now - clothes, books, trinkets. We had even started the process of redecorating…

Well, we had discussed it a couple of times. We'd yet to actually buy anything or even meet with an interior designer.

Christian pulled me from the elevator and towards the bedroom, my heels clicking hard against the floor as I tried to keep up with him. He hauled me into his arms as we entered our room, his hand reaching out to shut the door behind us. The bedroom was swathed in darkness, only silver flecks of city lights streaming in through the windows, dotting the navy and slate walls like stars.

His lips were on mine, his hands pushing through my hair and freeing it from my bun.

"You looked stunning tonight," he purred. He walked me backwards until the bed met my legs, then he slowly guided me down onto the mattress. He stood between my knees, staring down at me. "So beautiful…"

He bent forward and picked up my left foot, his fingers skimming my ankle and easing my shoe off. I winced as my sore toes were finally free.

"As lovely as these shoes look," he muttered. He lifted my foot and kissed my toes before turning his focus to my other shoe. "Don't wear them again. I can't stand to see your feet like this."

"Don't worry, I'm thinking about throwing them off the balcony," I moaned, his hands pressing deep into my arches.

"I love that sound," he whispered. He continued to massage my feet until the pain slipped from my mind. "I have been thinking about this all day."

He took his time, slowly removing his shirt and pants, every flick of a button or tug of his zipper sending me into a tailspin. I wanted him on top of me, inside me.

I sat up and pulled my dress up and over my head, throwing it aside in frustration.

"Lie back," Christian purred and I did as he said. He crawled over me and lowered himself between my thighs, my body jolting at the feel of his nakedness against my own. "Shaking already, baby?"

His lips danced their way across my collarbones, spreading light kisses between each of his breaths.

"My god, you're perfect," he hummed. He worked his way up my throat, finding my lips again. His hands roamed my sides and hips, his body pressing hard against me. "I can't believe you're mine."

I lifted my hips, urging him to hurry up and put me out of my misery. He responded with a smile and gently eased himself into me, slow and steady, pushing deeper until I accepted all of him. I hooked my ankles around his butt, pressing my heels into him, keeping him in place.

"Oh, baby…" he groaned. He pushed up onto his elbows, his face hovering above mine. "Look at me."

I fixed my eyes on his, losing myself in his perfect greys, so dark and seductive now.

He didn't move for an age, simply admiring me and kissing me and muttering sweet words.

When he shifted his weight, I let out a heady moan.

"Christian," I grunted, pulling my lip between my teeth. I forced my hands up to his chest, pressing my fingers into his pectorals. "Please… Give it to me… Please, I need you…"

"You have me," he replied. He kissed me again and slowly pulled out of me, entering again at even slower a pace. "You have all of me."

"I need you faster," I blurted. "Please, I need you quick…"

He didn't obey my command, keeping his pace and not breaking from it. I longed for him to shake off his inhibitions and fuck me. I wanted him raw.

"Harder…" I begged.

I felt him twitch inside me. He couldn't hide the fact he was as close as me. He wanted to let go. I could feel it.

He inhaled a sharp breath and rested his forehead to mine.

"Let me love you," he whispered, his voice deeper and more gravelled than usual. "Let me make love to you."

He rolled his hips into me, his entire frame settling against mine, not a speck of skin untouched by him.

"After the day I've had, just let me love you this way," he muttered. "I need you like this, baby."

I brought my mouth to his and stole a kiss from him. My hands slid up to his shoulders and moved to the back of his neck.

"I love you, Ana," he declared with a moan. His climax was building, as relentless as ever, just waiting to pour into me and claim me as his own. "I love you so fucking much."

"I love you too," I whispered, my voice cracking. "With all my heart."

"Promise me you'll always be mine?"

"I promise," I nodded. I sucked his lips, teasing my tongue into his mouth. "I'm yours. I'll only ever be yours."

He accepted my words and let out a deep breath. He resumed his laboured rhythm, devoting every ounce of himself to me.

The bed groaned under the weight of our love. I knew our night had only just begun, that the hours to follow would be filled with euphoric pleasure and endless declarations of his love for me. I knew he wouldn't stop until he had exhausted himself. Until he had shed whatever nightmare had unfolded at work. Until he could finally relax and sink into me, the outside world a mere fragment of his imagination.

"You're my Ana," he panted. "My sweet, perfect Ana."

"And you're mine," I reminded him. "You belong to me. _You're mine_."

His lips curled into a smile and I felt his mood change. His shoulders dropped, as if a wave of relief had just crashed over him. He grinned as he kissed me, my words enough to give him all the comfort he needed.


	4. Chapter Three

**A/N: Hello Lovelies! Thank you so much for the comments on the last chapter. I'm really glad you enjoyed it. I don't write a lot of saucy scenes because I don't think I'm particularly good at them, so it's wonderful to see so many of you liked it. :)**

 **I hope you enjoy this chapter. For those of you who have been asking about José, you're going to find out a little about his condition in this chapter.**

 **More coming soon!**

 **Much Love,**

 **Chelsea x**

* * *

 **DoloresDeeHowe** \- Thank you! I'm really glad you liked it. I love that side of Christian. I love the overprotective, affectionate part of him. :) I hope you enjoy this chapter! Much Love x

 **Susan** \- Thank you! I'm glad you liked it. :) I really hope you like this chapter too! Much Love x

 **SuzB** \- Thank you! Well, I think Elliot and Grace want Christian to propose... I'm not sure if the man himself is quite ready for that, we'll have to wait and see! ;) Hope you like this chapter! Much Love x

* * *

I woke at the crack of dawn, a grin plastered across my face and my skin still flushed from last night. I let out a gentle sigh and rolled onto my back, opening my eyes to look beside me. I ran my hand across the crumpled sheets and found the empty space warm, only recently vacated.

Tumbling out of bed, I pulled on my cotton robe and went in search of Christian. With the bathroom clear, I tiptoed across the apartment and headed for the kitchen, following the scent of percolating coffee. It was only just starting to get light outside, a warm glow slowly seeping through the windows, the sun kissing the furniture with its red and pink hues.

Christian was alone, sat with his back to me at the breakfast bar, today's newspaper open in front of him. I admired him for a moment: the way his shirt strained as he brought his fork to his mouth, the way his ears lifted as he chewed.

"Morning," I mumbled as I stepped forward and smoothed my hands up his back.

He turned his head towards me and swallowed, a hint of a smile working its way across his lips.

"Good morning," he replied. He pushed the paper aside and twisted on his stool to face me, quickly catching me in his arms. "What are you doing awake at this time? You should still be asleep."

I looked down at his watch and saw it wasn't even 6am yet.

"Better question, why are _you_ awake at this time?" I asked him.

"I'm meeting with Ros before she flies to Berlin in a few hours," he explained. "She's going to check out some companies I could potentially invest in. I need to give her some updated paperwork before she leaves."

"Oh, right." I pouted my lips. "So you have to leave soon then?"

"In a couple minutes," he nodded. "Why?"

I eased forward and filled the gap between his knees, resting my palms on his thighs.

"Well, I was kind of hoping we could pick up where we left off last night," I hummed, teasing my tongue across my lips.

"Can't get enough of me, huh?" he smirked.

I lifted his hands from my hips and brought them to the belt of my robe. I guided him, hooking the tie through his fingers and urging him to pull it apart. I could already feel goosebumps starting to prickle my skin, my nipples hardening and eager for his fingers and lips.

"Ana…"

He leaned forward and kissed me chastely, without any haste or urgency. His hands slipped out from under my own and tugged the belt. Tightening and securing it around my waist.

My hopes dropped in an instant.

"I wish I had time," he whispered, his breath tickling my lips and smelling of coffee and blueberry pancakes.

"Be quick," I shot back.

"If I take you back to bed, I won't be able to leave again," he shook his head.

"So just do it here then," I said. "Put me on the counter, bend me over it –"

He laughed under his breath and stared back at me. I could tell in his eyes that it was moot point. He wasn't going to change his mind, even if the bulge in his pants was urging him to take me up on the offer.

"You'll have me all to yourself tonight," he promised. "My undivided attention."

"It's not your attention I'm interested in right this second," I hummed, my eyes shifting to his crotch.

"I've created a monster," he chuckled. He kissed me again and pushed away from the counter, stepping down from his stool. He picked up his jacket and slung it over his arm, before lifting the stack of papers next to his plate. "I really have to go. I'm sorry, baby."

"Promise me you'll make it up to me later?"

"I promise," he nodded, fixing me with his stare. "I'll make sure to give you all my best moves," he winked. I couldn't help but giggle. "That's what I like to hear… What time are you due in work?"

"Mark said anytime after lunch, so about 1pm I think," I shrugged. "I don't know what I'll do this morning though."

"Grande will arrive soon," he reminded me, refusing to call Jaz by her preferred moniker. "You could always go grab some breakfast with her, maybe do some shopping?"

I grimaced. It's not that I didn't like Jaz but I didn't enjoy shopping at the best of times, and it's not as if I can ask for her opinion on which underwear to buy or what dress will make me look sexy. She's still an employee, after all.

"Call me if you need anything," Christian said, oblivious to my unenthusiastic response to his suggestion. "I'll see you tonight, yeah?"

I nodded and offered my lips to him for another kiss. He gladly accepted, moaning quietly as he embraced me.

He peeled himself away and stalked across the apartment, heading straight for the elevators and disappearing as soon as the doors opened. The apartment was flooded with silence when he left and I crossed my arms around myself, a sudden chill working its way through me.

* * *

When Christian returned to work full-time after the fire at Maîtrise, and Mia and Kate stopped coming over so frequently, I had discovered something new about myself: I didn't cope well when I was left on my own.

Loneliness meant silence and silence allowed my mind to wander.

Familiar faces often crept back into my thoughts – some welcome, others not so.

I would often think about Cal and send him a text, relieved when he was his usual snappy self with me. I would think about Leila and feel an impending doom as I relived the moment she was engulfed by flames.

The bitch troll would usually find a way of making a reappearance, but only ever for a brief second. I had developed a way to shut her out. I blocked out her name. I refused to say it, think it, as if that alone could save me. Most of the time it worked. I had stopped seeing her face a while ago, but her voice was harder to shift.

But it wasn't her that was plaguing me today. It was her latest victim that tormented me. The victim she kept prisoner in her dungeon, the man she drugged and tortured, the man she branded with my name and tried to frame for my murder, had she succeeded with her plans.

José was in a coma for eight days after the fire. He woke on his own accord, the doctors surprised and relieved when he opened his eyes for the first time. They had kept him unconscious in a bid to fully assess his condition, as well as to give his body the best chance to recover. His injuries had been substantial. _Life-changing_. That's what they said. He was severely malnourished and his body was in shock, withdrawing from the heroin _she_ pumped into his veins. His legs were badly burnt, his hands caked in blisters. Taylor had bravely tried to rescue him, like he had with the others, but the flames were too aggressive by that point. The ceiling had begun to collapse, leaving José trapped until the fire department were able to find him.

 _Just a couple minutes more and he'd be a goner_. I overheard someone say that in the hospital.

He was barely alive when he was taken to hospital, his skin turning to charcoal and his lungs full of smoke. But he pulled through. He was fighting. He wasn't letting her win.

However, I had only heard this information through other people.

Christian was able to keep tabs on José's progress through the staff at the rehabilitation centre he had been taken to shortly after he woke up. Christian was paying for his treatment, ensuring he got the best help available – both physical and emotional. Ray was still close to José's father and was able to glean information that way. I had spoken to José senior once but he seemed distant and unwilling to talk, so I gave him space and decided to wait to speak to José himself.

But none of us were allowed to see him. It was strictly family, no visitors.

That didn't stop my perseverance though. I had tried calling but his phone was missing. I tried writing letters for the staff to pass onto him, but they were returned unopened. I'd tried visiting him and had so far been unsuccessful in convincing the nurses to let me into his room. I had visited The Willow Therapy Centre several times.

Today included.

I was sat in the back of the SUV, behind Sawyer who was at the wheel. He had parked the car outside the front of the centre, the state-of-the-art building a mix of steel, glass and white marble. I stared straight ahead, refusing to meet Sawyer or Jaz's eyes in the rear-view mirror. They had both protested when I asked them to drive me here. They knew what would happen – the inevitable rejection, to be later followed by disappointment and upset.

But what if today is the day? What if today José tells the nurses to let me in, that he's ready to see me? It's worth the risk, surely?

"What time are you supposed to be at work?" Jaz asked, turning to face me from her seat up front. Her voice was urgent and marked with concern, her dark eyes glancing at her watch. We had been sat here for over fifteen minutes already. I was still plucking up the courage to move.

"One," I replied.

Sawyer cleared his throat and shifted in his seat. He slowly turned to face me, his deep blue gaze soft and considerate. He understood why I was here - he got it.

"You don't have to go inside," he told me. "We can come back another day."

"No, we're here now," I shook my head. "We haven't driven all this way just to turn back. I'll get out in a second."

"Miss Steele –"

"There's a chance I'll get to see him today," I interrupted Sawyer. "I have to see him. I need to talk to him about what happened."

 _I need to apologise_ …

Sawyer nodded and popped open his door, stepping out. I inhaled a deep breath and followed his move. I felt a hardness settle in my stomach as I dragged myself towards the entrance, my eyes fixing on the square paving stones leading the way. The doors slid open as I approached them, revealing the reception area in all its modern, artsy style. They had tried to make the space calm and still, but really it was overwhelming and kind of pretentious.

I headed straight for the round desk in the centre of the room, smiling once to the receptionist who had been here the last time I came. I didn't need any guidance, I knew exactly how to sign in, which label to stick to my blouse. I knew the route to the unit José was in. I knew how many steps it took to get from reception to his room. 47 strides. I had walked these halls too many times, despite never seeing inside José's room. I had only ever sat outside, in the hallway, on one of the uncomfortable metal chairs.

I hadn't admitted to anyone that sometimes I walked this route in my sleep. That I dreamt of sitting in the hallway, waiting for news that never came…

Sawyer and Jaz remained close behind me, their footsteps sounding like my heart as it beat loudly in my ears.

 _Dum-dum, dum-dum, dum-dum_.

I turned the final corner and came to a crashing halt, my feet slamming into the floor. My eyes widened, my jaw falling open.

"W-What…" I fumbled. I slowly shook my head. "What are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same thing."

He was stood a few feet away, beside the row of chairs that lined the left wall. His hands were deep inside his pockets, a resigned look on his face.

Christian's eyes were heavy and sympathetic, his lips taut and pressing together into a hard line.

"What are you doing here?" he asked in a deep tone.

"You know why I'm here," I replied quietly, the words catching in my throat and sounding strange.

"You didn't tell me you were coming here today."

"I didn't know I was coming here," I shrugged, feeling defensive. "I only decided a little while ago."

"And you didn't think to call me?" he frowned.

"You're meant to be at work," I said. I folded my arms and hugged myself, trying to squeeze my chest and stop the tightness building there. "How did you know I was here?"

"Kate," he hummed her name. I gulped. "She said she'd messaged you about having lunch together. You told her you were busy at work, couldn't leave your desk."

I didn't think she would mention it to Christian. It didn't seem significant. Kate had texted me about an hour ago, shortly before I left the apartment with Jaz and Sawyer. She asked if I wanted to have lunch at the sushi bar opposite SIP. I sent back a quick response saying I was busy. I didn't have time to reveal the truth to her and, honestly, I didn't want to either. Both she and Christian think I'm stupid for coming here as often as I do. They think I'm wasting my time, that I'm putting myself through unnecessary distress.

"It's nice to know the two of you are talking about me when I'm not around," I shot back in a huff. I was being petty but I couldn't stop myself.

Christian shook his head.

"It's not like that and you know it," he whispered. He closed the gap between us and lifted his hands from his pockets. He slid them up and down my arms, his touch sending a shiver through my body. "We care about you. Do you think it's easy for us, watching you put yourself through this week in, week out? Ana, you feel like shit every time you come here."

"But I –"

"It's always the same," he said firmly. "You leave this place feeling like shit and it kills all of us to watch you suffering. I hate seeing you upset."

He rested his hands on my shoulders and stared me in the eye.

"It has to stop," he told me. "You can't keep doing this. You aren't allowed to see him."

"But he might want to see me today," I whispered, shaking my head.

"He won't," he sighed. "I'm sorry, but he won't. Nothing's going to change."

I couldn't accept that. I stepped back and shook my head hard.

"No," I huffed. My voice was starting to gain momentum, echoing through the hall. "No, he has to see me eventually. Sooner or later they will let me see him. When he's feeling better. It'll happen and I need to be here. I need to talk to him."

"Ana –"

"I have to see him!"

He raised his chin and pursed his lips. He wanted to say something but he decided against it, clenching his jaw to stop the words from seeping out.

"What the hell is going on out here?"

Christian spun around and looked down the hall, to the high-pitched voice shouting back at us. I moved out of his shadow and saw a small, dark-haired woman scowling at Christian. Her expression was thunderous.

"Rachel," I breathed out. I stepped forward to align myself with Christian, eyeing up José's cousin.

Rachel Rodriguez was a firecracker of a woman, several inches shorter than me but with a presence far greater. She had José's colouring and eyes, the pair looking more like siblings than cousins. She was four years older than José and had always treated him like a little brother. They were thick as thieves when they were kids.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Rachel grunted, her brown eyes still fixed on Christian, refusing to look at me. "Didn't you get my email?"

"I did," Christian replied tersely. I looked up and studied his profile. His guard was back up, his mask firmly in place. "Don't worry, we're leaving."

"What?" I frowned. "No, we're not… What's going on? Rachel?"

I turned my head back to her and caught her staring at me. Her eyes trailed up and down my body, a look passing over her face that resembled disgust.

"Is something wrong with José?" I worried, my lip starting to tremble.

"José?" she snorted. "Oh yeah, he's fine. Well, if you take away the fact he was tortured and almost killed by a fucking monster… Jesus... Imagine living with those scars and you'll realise how stupid that question is. Of course something is wrong with him. He's not here on vacation!"

"Don't raise your voice with her," Christian grunted, taking a step forward. "You've made your point clear. Now go back to your cousin."

"Not until all of you have left," Rachel shook her head. "You're not welcome here."

"I know the nurses won't let us see him just yet. But I know someday he'll be up to visitors. That's why I'm here," I mumbled.

Rachel snorted again and shook her head. She started to turn her body away from me, as if she couldn't stand to be in my presence any longer.

"Are you delusional or something?" she chided. "You seriously think it's the nurses keeping you from him?"

My frown deepened. I felt Christian move closer to my body, his hand reaching for my waist.

"I don't understand…"

"He doesn't want to see you," Rachel said, sounding out the words slowly. "He doesn't want you here. He doesn't want you anywhere near him."

"Stop it," Christian ordered her.

She scowled at him. "You think you can call the shots, huh? No. Not when it's your girlfriend's fault José's in here."

I stumbled back a step but Christian held me upright.

"I didn't do this…" I shook my head. My shoulders hunched forward as my stomach twisted into knots. "It was –"

"Yeah, yeah, it wasn't you who started the fire, you didn't lock him up or beat him to within an inch of his life," she conceded. "But you led him on for years. You enabled this."

"What? No, I didn't," I shot back. I glanced up at Christian. "I didn't. I never led him on."

His eyes gave me a sympathetic look, telling me _I know_.

"You let him think he stood a chance," Rachel continued. Like a dog with a bone, she wasn't giving up now she had me in her grasp. "You knew he was in love with you. You could have told him to back off in the beginning, but you didn't. You kept him close. You loved the attention, you fucking lapped it up, and now look what's happened."

"I didn't –"

"You have ruined his life," she shouted.

"I said stop it," Christian snapped. He stood in front of me, blocking her from my view. "You do not get to talk to her like that. None of this is Ana's fault."

"If she hadn't fucked with his head for years, he wouldn't have stuck around her. He wouldn't have been in Seattle. They only went after him because of _her_." I could hear her breaths, hard and fast. "Don't pretend like she's Miss Innocent. She knows what she did."

"You need to walk away," Christian warned her.

"Or what?" she replied. "What are you going to do about it?"

"You don't want to find out."

"You don't get to come in here and act like the big guy," she huffed. "You're not the one who has to sit with him. You don't watch him breakdown in tears for no reason. You don't hear him screaming in his sleep because he can't get it out of his head. So don't you dare try to tell me what to do!"

I pressed my head into the centre of Christian's back and scrunched up my face. I felt the back of my eyes sting, my throat starting to burn as a sob threatened to burst into life.

"Do all of us a favour and leave," Rachel sighed. "Let José move on with his life. He doesn't need or want any of you."

"I think you're forgetting who has paid for his treatment here," Christian retaliated.

"Yeah, another feeble attempt to make amends for what your girlfriend has put him through? Nice try but you can stick your money."

"You think you can pay to keep him here?"

"We don't have to," Rachel said. "We're taking José home. We're getting him as far away from her as possible. José doesn't want your money and he doesn't want your apologies, so do the right thing and fuck off."

I felt Christian tense up but I was filled with relief as I heard Rachel stomping away, her footsteps growing quieter and then silenced altogether with the sound of a door slamming shut.

"Mr Grey?" Taylor's voice broke through the tension. "Shall we –"

I pushed away from Christian and ran back down the hall, finding my way out of the building.

I ran out into the middle of the parking lot and started pacing, sucking in quick breaths that didn't stop my tears from falling.

"Ana!"

Christian's hands were on me before I could shake him off. I didn't want to be touched. I couldn't stand it. His touch would make me crumble. I didn't want to fall apart.

"Don't push me away," he begged, wrapping his arms around me. His palms were flat on my back, holding me in place. His lips danced against my ear. "Don't listen to her. She's full of shit. She doesn't know what she's saying."

I shook my head and a whimper escaped my lips, bleating into his chest.

"It's my… It's my fault…"

"No, it isn't," he said. "You are not to blame for what happened to José."

"I am," I cried. "He came looking for me… If I had answered his messages…"

"Don't do this to yourself. You didn't do this to him."

"He needed help and I walked away from him," I shook my head. "He was in trouble."

"He crossed a line," Christian protested. "He wanted more than friendship and you didn't. You ignored him because you needed space."

"And look what happened!" I yanked my head back. He was blurry behind my tears. "He didn't deserve this!"

"Elena did this, not you," he tried to remind me. I winced at the sound of her name. "All blame lies with her."

"He wouldn't have got hurt if it wasn't for me," I muttered. "He blames me…"

"It's not your fault. I promise you –"

"I just wanted to see him…"

I broke down.

I sank into Christian's arms, my knees giving out underneath me. He scooped me into his chest, lifting me off the ground as if I weighed no more than a feather.

I screamed from the inside out, a growl building in my chest and hitting a crescendo in my closed mouth.

"None of this is your fault," he said again. "His cousin is a fucking bitch. She's just looking for someone to blame and she's targeting the wrong person."

It crushed me how cold Rachel was. The utter hatred and disgust in her eyes. I had always gotten on well with her, we used to laugh and joke. I was friendly with all of José's family. I had grown up with them in my life.

But now I am the outcast. I am the poison that has torn their family apart.

How can I apologise and try to make this right if I'm not allowed to see José?

How can I help him if he hates me?

How can I get rid of the guilt that is destroying me piece by piece?

 _I don't want to feel this way anymore._

 _GET OUT OF ME._

 _GET OUT. GET OUT. GET OUT._

Christian started to carry me back towards the SUV.

"Sawyer, we're getting in this car with you. Grande, you take the other SUV. Taylor, you take my car," he ordered. "I'm taking Ana home."

"No…" I grumbled.

"Shh, it's okay. I'm here. I'm taking you home."

"No," I shook my head and arched away from him. I wriggled until he set me down again. "I can't go home."

"What?"

"I'm going to be late for w-work."

"No," he shook his head. "You are not going to work. I'll call your boss and tell him you're not feeling well."

"I n-need to go to work," I protested, my voice weak and unconvincing.

"Ana –"

"Please," I breathed. I blinked back the last of my tears and stared up at him. "Please, don't take that away from me… I need to go to work."

"I'm not leaving you like this," he said.

"You've got work to do," I shook my head. "You've got meetings."

"I'll cancel them."

"Don't waste your time on me," I urged him. "We both have jobs to do."

"Ana," he stepped forward and brought his hands to my face. He smoothed his thumbs over my sticky, wet cheeks. "Where you are concerned, my time is never wasted. Don't ever think that you come second to my work. You are my priority. You come first. You're my number one."

"Christian…"

"None of this is your fault," he continued. He kept his voice low, so only I could hear him. "I know what you're going through. I understand what you're feeling right now. I get it… We're in this together. Haven't I always promised you that?"

I nodded my head.

"We're on the same side," he whispered. "We can get through this… Let me take you home. Let me take care of you."

"I need to go to work," I shook my head.

My heart was pleading with me to fall into his arms again and remain there, to let him shower me in love and affection. But my head was telling me to shut down, block it out, focus. Distract myself from the pain. From reality. From my life.

"I have to go."

"Fuck work, it doesn't matter. You need –"

"Let me decide what I need," I begged him. "Please. I need this."

Concern passed through his grey eyes. He was thinking it over but I knew he would eventually give up the fight.

"I don't want to leave you, not when you're like this," he sighed, his words heavier than his breath. "Let me come to SIP with you. I'll have Andrea bring over my laptop and I'll work in your office."

I slowly shook my head.

"I know you love me and you want to protect me," I whispered. I sniffed hard and wiped my face with the back of my hand. "But I don't need babying right now. I need to deal with this my way."

"You can't run away and block it out," he told me. "It doesn't work. I should know, I spent years doing it."

I knew he was right but I couldn't bring myself to admit it.

With a long sigh, he bowed his head, resignation slipping over his face.

"If so much as another tear leaves your eyes, you call me," he ordered. "I mean it. You call and I'll be there in minutes."

"Okay…"

I doubt he understood how important it was to me that he gave me this little thing. That he backed down and let me win. I needed a win.

Christian has always been the perfect gentleman. The perfect partner for me. But since Maîtrise, he had been more attentive, more protective, more understanding than ever before.

We had more in common too. Trauma had eaten away at the both of us. But whilst his was years old, mine was new and still painful to touch.

I lifted my head up to his and pressed my tear-soaked lips to his mouth.

"You only have to say the word and I'll come running," he muttered. "You know that, don't you?"

"I do."

He cupped my face and spread light kisses across my mouth and cheeks, as if he could somehow soak up my grief and carry the burden for me.

If only it was that easy.

"I'll pick you up at five," he promised. "I don't care whether you're finished or not. I'm taking you home at five."

It hurt to pull away from him and slip into the back of the SUV, but I knew that I had to. Work was my distraction. It was the one place I could escape to and be Ana Steele. Just a girl with a job.

Not a victim.

Not a pathetic excuse for a person.

Not a monster who almost got her friend killed because she was too scared to tell him from the beginning that she didn't like him that way.

It didn't matter what Christian said. I blamed myself for José. Rachel was right. I had ruined his life.

"Make sure you stay with her -" I heard Christian bark at Jaz as I climbed into the car. "I mean it. Do not leave her side or so help me God, you'll be fired quicker than you can 'I'm sorry'."

"Yes, sir."

I closed the car door behind me and buckled my seatbelt. I sank into my seat like a deflated balloon, weighed down by a huge knot in my stomach and the crushing sensation in my chest. This feeling came in waves, some days it was stronger and heavier than others, but it was always there. The physical pain was gone – my wrists and ankles are no longer shredded from where I was tied up, my head is no longer bruised or battered – but in a way I miss it. The physical pain was easier to cope with. It was overwhelming, it demanded to be felt. I didn't have a choice but to focus on it.

But when the marks faded, that's when the thoughts took over. I can dull them for a short while but I can never switch them off altogether. My soul had been shattered and I didn't know if I would ever feel whole again. I didn't know if a piece of me had died with that bitch in Maîtrise, a piece that I could never get back.


	5. Chapter Four

**A/N: Hello Lovelies! Ready for another update?**

 **Thanks for the love on the last chapter, despite it being an emotional one. I think by now you'll have some idea of how this story is going to develop and I am so excited to share it with you. :)**

 **I hope you enjoy this chapter.**

 **Much Love,**

 **Chelsea x**

* * *

 **DoloresDeeHowe** \- Thank you! Ana is in a very complicated place right now but I'm sure with the right people surrounding her she'll be okay. :) I hope you enjoy this chapter. Much Love x

 **Susan** \- Thank you! I'm glad you liked it. I really hope you enjoy this one too. Much Love x

 **SuzB** \- Thank you! Maybe you're onto something there... Is Rachel speaking on Jose's behalf or is she just being an overprotective cousin? I hope you like this chapter! Much Love x

* * *

I plastered a fake smile across my face and greeted each of my colleagues as I walked from the stairwell to my office. I spotted a few people giving me a second glance, clearly sensing there was something off about my demeanour, but I carried on as if there was nothing wrong. That is one thing I love about working here: everyone is incredibly supportive and will walk to the ends of the earth to help you, but equally they will give you space if you need it.

I made it to my desk and sat down, Jaz taking her spot by the window. She shrugged off her leather jacket and pulled her tablet from her bag, firing it up and fixing her attention on whatever work she had to do. To be honest, I didn't know what she did on her tablet or phone while I was working, but she always managed to look busy. I knew it was just a front. Mark is the only person here who knows Jaz is my security detail. To everyone else she is my assistant. Luckily, Jaz fades easily into the background and doesn't draw attention to herself.

Switching on my computer, I waited for my screen to load and began emptying my purse, setting my notebook and diary down, ready to use. It took just a few moments for my applications to load, my emails flashing with a long stream of inter-office memos.

I scanned the list and saw a few non-work related messages, Christian's name at the top of the pile.

* * *

 **To: Anastasia Steele**

 **From: Christian Grey**

 **Date: 05 June 2012 13:19**

 **Subject: I'm here for you.**

It killed me when you left.

I hate seeing you upset.

I know you need space and I will always give you that when you need it, but please remember that I am **always** here for you.

I love you.

Your Christian x

CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings Inc.

* * *

I felt my heart clench as I read his words. I had to close my eyes for a second to stop another bout of tears from appearing.

After a few deep breaths, I made my reply.

* * *

 **To: Christian Grey**

 **From: Anastasia Steele**

 **Date: 05 June 2012 13:28**

 **Subject: I'm here for you.**

Thank you. For everything.

I will be okay. I promise I'll call you if I need to talk.

Ana x

Editor, Seattle Independent Publishers

* * *

 **To: Anastasia Steele**

 **From: Christian Grey**

 **Date: 05 June 2012 13:31**

 **Subject: I'm here for you.**

You don't need to thank me. I love you. Everything I do is because I love you.

Please take it easy this afternoon.

I'll be at SIP for 5pm. I'm already counting down the hours.

C x

Christian Grey

CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings Inc.

* * *

I sent back a quick reply and closed the thread, my sights already set on the next email waiting to be opened.

While I recognised the sender, it was the timing of the message that struck me as odd.

* * *

 **To: Anastasia Steele**

 **From: Dr Flynn**

 **Date: 05 June 2012 13:01**

 **Subject: Your next session?**

Hi Ana,

I hope you're okay?

I was wondering when you are free for our next session? Again, I'm very sorry for cancelling our appointment for last Friday. Let me know when you are available and I'll book you in.

Best Wishes,

Dr Flynn

J & R Therapy, Seattle.

* * *

It had been about two weeks since I had last seen Dr Flynn, my session on Friday needing to be cancelled due to a family emergency in the Flynn household. I had been meaning to book in for another appointment, knowing I needed to stick with our routine, but it kept slipping my mind.

My stomach tightened.

Did Christian contact Dr Flynn after my meltdown earlier?

The thought made my skin prickle. That was a hard limit for me. Christian wasn't to intervene with my therapy in any way, unless I choose to include him. It was something we discussed prior to me starting therapy, after Christian convinced me to give it a try. I had starting seeing Dr Flynn a few weeks after the incident at Maîtrise, the hour long sessions becoming a staple part of my week.

* * *

 **To: Dr Flynn**

 **From: Anastasia Steele**

 **Date: 05 June 2012 13:40**

 **Subject: Your next session?**

Hi,

I'll be honest, I've had better days. Not feeling 100% at the moment.

Just checked my diary and I'm free Friday evening, if that's good for you? Anytime after six is fine.

Did Christian contact you today?

Ana

Editor, Seattle Independent Publishers

* * *

 **To: Anastasia Steele**

 **From: Dr Flynn**

 **Date: 05 June 2012 13:42**

 **Subject: Your next session?**

Great! Let's say Friday at 6:30pm.

Sorry you're not feeling well. I had hoped you were having a good week.

No, I haven't spoken to Christian for a while. Please pass on my regards to him though.

See you on Friday.

Dr Flynn

J & R Therapy, Seattle.

* * *

I let out a relieved sigh.

I shouldn't have questioned his involvement. He made me a promise. He wouldn't go back on that. I should know that.

I sat quietly for a moment, staring at my computer, but I was pulled from my thoughts as Jaz cleared her throat.

"Everything okay?" she asked, narrowing her golden eyes at me. Her lips were pursed, apprehension working its way over her dark brows.

"Yeah," I replied quickly, nodding my head. I sat up in my seat and clapped my hands together, an attempt to jolt some energy into my tired body. I reached for the stack of synopses that had somehow found their way to my desk. "I guess it's time to find a potential bestseller."

I didn't look up but I could feel Jaz's eyes on me. She was clever and could sense when someone was bullshitting her – I suppose that's why Christian hired her. But, thankfully, she didn't question me or prod for information. She crossed her legs and returned her focus to her tablet.

* * *

I had worked my way through most of the paperwork on my desk by the time Christian arrived at my office door, sans jacket and tie and with an earnest smile on his lips. He led me out of the building by the hand, his stride slow and lazy, as if he was trying to let me set our pace.

We arrived back at Escala and I pulled off my jacket as soon as the elevator doors peeled back. I kicked off my shoes, shoving them towards the wall. I'd put them away later.

"That will be all," Christian said to Taylor, dismissing him.

"Sir," Taylor nodded and headed down the hall, disappearing around a corner.

Christian turned towards the table near the elevator and began emptying his pockets, setting down his keys, wallet and phone.

I stepped up behind him and slid my hands around his waist, dropping my head into the centre of his back, my cheek between his shoulder blades.

He caught my hands between his and he slowly turned to face me, keeping contact at all times. I leaned my head back and gazed up at him. I didn't say a word. I didn't need to. His eyes darted around my face, taking in my expression before he offered me a gentle kiss.

He knew what I needed and he gave it to me.

"Let's see what Mrs Jones has done for dinner," he hummed. I nodded and he walked me across the apartment and into the kitchen. He left me at the counter and went over to the hot plate and the dish waiting for us. "Lasagne."

"My favourite," I smiled. He mimicked my expression. I knew it was one of his favourites too.

Christian plated up two portions and pushed them over to me. While he set about grabbing us a glass of wine each, I picked up the cutlery from the designated drawer. I took a seat at the counter and tucked in, not waiting a second longer.

"Sorry," I hummed through a mouthful, before Christian had even sat down. "I'm really hungry."

"Don't apologise, I'm glad you're eating," he smiled. He reached out and tucked a loose piece of hair behind my ear, his thumb grazing my jaw as he pulled back. "It pleases me to see you eating. Did you remember to have lunch?"

I nodded. "Sawyer brought me and Jaz some takeout from the deli down the block. I had a salad."

"That's it?" he frowned.

"And I had about six muffins from a basket someone left in the staff kitchen," I added. He smirked upon hearing that.

A small silence developed between us as I ate like a savage, Christian opting for a more refined and conservative approach. He took petite bites and chewed slowly, savouring his meal instead of hacking into it like I was.

"I'm sorry about earlier," I muttered, staring down at my plate as I spoke. "I wasn't trying to push you away."

"I know," he replied. In the corner of my eye I saw him lift his wine glass and take a sip. "I wish you had let me bring you home, though. I wanted to look after you."

"I didn't want to let anyone down," I admitted. "I'm still new at SIP. I know Mark understands what I've been through, but I don't want to push it."

"I can understand that."

"And it's the only thing that stops me thinking about…" I trailed off. I let out a sigh. "Well, all of it. If I'm working, I don't think about them and what happened at the club."

"Do you think about it when you're with me?" he asked.

I dragged my eyes up to his. He seemed wary of my response.

I shook my head.

"No, I don't think about anything but us when I'm with you," I said. "You're a good distraction, too."

He gave me a broad smile.

"Rachel emailed you?" I asked, broaching the reason for my upset earlier. He nodded once. "When?"

"This morning," he replied. "Around 9am. I was going to discuss it with you tonight. I had hoped to avoid what happened at the medical centre."

"I hadn't planned to go there today," I explained. "It was a last minute decision."

"I believe you," he nodded again.

"What did she say in the email?"

"Pretty much the same as she said to your face," he sighed.

"Can I read it?"

"No," he shook his head. "It'll only make you feel worse, seeing it written down. You don't need that kind of upset and I sure as hell won't allow you to punish yourself further by reading her disgusting, half-brained attack."

I didn't protest the matter. I don't think I could handle another knock-back today.

Christian looked down at his plate, his jaw tensing. "It was unfair the way she spoke to you."

"She has a point," I mumbled. "They all blame me."

"And they're fucking morons if they think you had anything to do with this."

"I could have done something," I shook my head. "Before any of this started. I could have made it clear how I felt… Maybe I did lead him on, by not saying something…"

"Ana," he sighed. He twisted to face me. "Just because you didn't say no, it does not mean you said yes. It doesn't work that way. José would have been more than capable of reading your body language. He would have known whether you were interested in him or not. The fact remains that he ignored how you felt and still pursued things. That was on him, not you."

"But I –"

"When we first met," he interrupted. "I knew from the start that you were interested in me. I could tell by the way you looked at me, the way you fidgeted as we spoke, the way your neck started to turn pink. It's obvious when someone is into you, and it's obvious when they're not. If I thought for one second that you didn't like me, I would have walked away and left you alone."

"Really?"

"Yes," he nodded. "I wanted you but I would never have forced you into doing something you didn't want to. It would have torn me apart if you'd said no, but I would have respected your decision. That's how consent works. You're not to blame if José didn't understand that. Or rather, if he chose to ignore it."

I was about to say something when he reached across and covered my hand with his. He gave it a tight squeeze.

"I understand what you're doing," he said. "Playing the what-if game. I've been there. You don't think I wish I had realised what Elena was doing to me sooner? Or what if I had gotten Leila the help she clearly needed? Could I have stopped all of this from happening? Possibly. But I have to live with the knowledge that I didn't do anything. It doesn't mean I was responsible for what Elena did. I wasn't an accomplice in her crimes."

"I just wish I could make it stop," I muttered. I could feel my lip starting to quiver. "I wish I could put everything right."

"So do I," he whispered. "I want to put an end to all of the pain and suffering she has caused."

"I wish she was still alive," I revealed. "I know it sounds ridiculous after everything she did, but I can't help feeling like death was too good for her."

"It was the coward's way out," he agreed. "She knew that place like the back of her hand, she could have gotten out if she wanted to."

"I have never hated anyone as much as I hate her," I grimaced. "I hope she's rotting in hell."

Christian turned my hand over and linked his fingers with mine.

"You won't feel like this forever," he assured me. "Feeling guilty for what happened to José. There will come a point when you'll realise you weren't to blame."

"I'm not so sure…"

"You will," he said, nodding confidently. "I know you will. If I can get to that point, you can too."

"What do you mean?" I frowned.

"I blamed myself for years," he shrugged. "For what happened to me when I was a kid. For what my birth mother and her pimp did to me."

"Are you serious?"

He nodded. "I used to wonder if I had done something wrong. Did I say something bad? Was it the way I looked? Was it just because I was there? I felt guilty for even being born."

"How could you think that way? You were just a kid. You had no control over what they did to you."

He lifted his gaze and arched his brows at me.

"Oh…" I mouthed.

"We can't control what other people do, think or feel," he reminded me. "It took years of therapy for me to realise that. But you're a lot smarter than I ever was. It won't take you as long to get your head around it."

"Speaking of therapy," I sighed. "I've made an appointment for Friday."

"Good," he smiled, happy to hear that. "I'm seeing John on Monday, during my lunch break. I need to check in with him, talk about a couple of things that have been on my mind lately."

"Is it helping you? Going to therapy every week?"

"It helps to talk to someone objective," he nodded. "Even if I don't always agree with what John has to say, sometimes it's good to simply hear a different opinion or take on something. Why? Don't you think it's helping you?"

"I don't know," I shrugged my shoulders. "I think it's still too early to say. I just come away from every session feeling exhausted, like I've ran a marathon or something."

"That's completely normal," he promised. He brought my hand up to his face and kissed my knuckles. "It's emotionally taxing, raking over the past. But it gets easier."

"I hope so."

"And until it does, you have me," he smiled. "To lash out at. To cry on my shoulder. To scream in my face and call me a bastard just because you need to call someone a bastard. I'm always here."

I chuckled under my breath.

"I'd never call you a bastard," I shook my head. "Maybe a prick once in a while."

"I can be a prick," he winked at me. "Don't ever think you're on your own. Because you're not. You can always count on me."

"I know," I nodded. "That's why I love you."

"Eat up," he ordered, glancing down at my plate. "As soon as we're done eating, I'm running us a bubble bath and I am going to scrub you from head to toe. And I won't take no for an answer."

"I'm definitely not going to argue with you on that," I smirked. "I like it when you bathe me. You make me feel squeaky clean."

"You're clean no matter what," he whispered, knowing exactly what I meant. "It's just an excuse for me to touch you up."

* * *

After spending a solid hour in the bath tub, Christian and I moved to the television room to wallow the rest of our evening away in front of the big screen. I needed mindless TV, something that would dull my senses and leave me sleepy enough for bed.

I was curled into a ball on the couch, Christian laying behind me, his limbs coiled around my body. His arm lay across my waist, his fingers splayed over my stomach. I twisted my head to look back at him and found him propped up on a pillow, his eyes fixed on the television.

"Fuck me, that is hideous," he chided, grimacing hard.

He had let me choose something to watch. I had flicked through the channels and eventually settled on a home renovation show. It had seemed a good idea in the moment. After all, he had already expressed his interest in redecorating.

Though, judging from the constant stream of negative comments and grunts coming from him, he wasn't that happy with my choice.

"Aren't these idiots supposed to be experts?" he huffed.

The stars of the show were currently deciding between a black-and-yellow or pink-and-green design for the kitchen they were attempting to improve.

I'll admit they were actually butchering it. It was horrible.

"I thought you said we'd get some ideas from watching this?"

"I'd say at the moment we're learning what not to do," I replied. The camera turned and revealed the extent of the mess from where they had dismantled the old cabinets and knocked the tiles off the walls. "Oh… look how dirty it is! There's dust everywhere... Christian, are you sure you want to redecorate? That's a lot of upheaval and they're only doing one room!"

He hummed a response, still gripped by the car-crash unfolding in front of us.

"You don't have to change things, if you don't want to," I told him.

"Huh?"

"I mean, the apartment is nice as it is," I said. "We don't need to change anything. Maybe hang a couple of pictures –"

"What? No, Ana," he cut me off. He pressed his hand into my stomach and rolled me onto my back. He pushed up onto his elbow and stared down at me. "Baby, I've already told you I want this place to be yours and mine. This is our home. I want your things all over the place. I want our furniture to be things we have picked out, not something I had a designer choose years ago."

"You do?"

"I want to be constantly reminded that you live here with me," he nodded.

"You know I'm here."

"Sometimes it feels like a dream," he smiled. "I need to feel your presence, your touch, in every room."

"In every room?" I arched my brow.

He chuckled and held up his hand. "Okay, not every room. My office is strictly off-limits. I like it the way it is. But you can do whatever you want with the library. That's your room. You spend enough of your time in there anyway!"

I had to agree with him on that. The library had become my safe place when I first returned home from the hospital. I could spend hours in there, my nose in a book and my mind full of different characters and their own issues. I had recently started adding my own collection to the shelves, mixing them with Christian's selection of novels and biographies. I liked to dot my copies between his books, as if they were my fingers slotting between his.

"Have you spoken to your interior designer yet?" I asked.

"Yes, didn't I tell you?" I shook my head. "Sorry. I've arranged a meeting with her. It's not for a couple weeks as her schedule is full."

"Is she the one who designed the apartment before?"

"Yes."

"So you've known her for a long time then?"

"For about ten years," he nodded.

"Is she a friend of yours?"

He stared at me, his lips firmly pressed together, a narrowed look in his eyes. The corner of his mouth slowly lifted into a smirk.

"What?"

"Are you getting territorial?" he wondered. His fingers swirled around my stomach, dipping beneath the hem of my t-shirt.

"What? Of course not!"

"You are," he snickered. "So this is what it feels like to be on the other side of the fence."

"I was just asking a question."

"You were fishing for information," he corrected me. Before I could counter him, he lowered his face to mine and gave me a long, wet kiss. "I think I like it when you get a little jealous."

"I'm not jealous. How can I be jealous of someone I've never met? I don't even know her name, for crying out loud!"

His smirk grew higher.

"You can be assured, baby, that my relationship with Gia Matteo has been and always will be strictly professional," he said. "I've never mixed business and pleasure. Not until I met you. You're the only exception."

"Is she attracted to you?"

"How should I know?" he shrugged. "I don't care what other women think. You're the only one whose thoughts and feelings I care about."

A smile returned to my lips.

"You have nothing to worry about," he promised. "Besides, Gia used to date Elliot. They've been on-and-off with each other for years."

I didn't like the idea of Elliot with anyone except Kate. Despite all that had unfolded between them, I still thought they made a cute couple. Even in the short amount of time they were together, it was obvious that they made each other extremely happy.

Christian's gaze drifted back to the TV. He shook his head.

"Fucking hell… it looks like a Barbie exploded in that bathroom!"

"Wow…" I giggled, checking back with the gruesome twosome and the hell they were creating for the Arizona couple who had dared ask for help. "Although, I like the colour of the toilet seat. That's a nice shade of pink."

"Don't you dare think about bringing anything that colour into this apartment," he said. "I would walk on water for you, but that is a serious hard limit for me. Jesus Christ, I had enough of that shit when I was living with my parents. Mia's crap was everywhere and it was either pink or fucking canary yellow."

"Like her car?"

"Exactly like her car," he huffed. "I love my sister but she has fucked up tastes."

I giggled and turned into him, snuggling into his side.

"Okay, so no pink and definitely no canary yellow," I grinned. "Anything else you hate?"

"Glitter," he shot back. "It gets everywhere and it ruins carpets."

"What about sequins?"

"God no," he shook his head. "Too scratchy… and nothing with feathers or tassels. I like clean lines. I don't like anything that looks like it could come out of a gay bar in Vegas."

"Duly noted," I hummed. "You know, there's a lot of things you don't like. Anybody would think you're a negative person…"

"I have very particular tastes," he agreed. "But there are some things I like… I like this –"

He dipped his mouth to mine again, kissing me hard and leaving me breathless. My heart started to pound in my chest.

He lifted himself up and rolled on top of me, pushing my knees apart to lay between my legs. I hooked my ankles around his thighs, pinning him to me.

"This, I love…" he purred. His eyes darkened with the prelude of what was to follow, the idea of his body and mine intrinsically linked. "I could have you like this forever and never have had my fill."

"Well, it's a good job you've got a whole lifetime with me, isn't it?"

"That's still not enough time," he smiled. "Now shut up. I can't kiss you if you're talking."

As his lips danced their way across mine, my hands roamed down his back, resting on his buttocks for a moment. He growled as I pinched him, the sound only pushing me on.

I slid my fingers around his sides and pulled at the drawstring of his sweats. My fingers slipped beneath the waistband, eager to feel the hard length of his –

"Why are you always looking to get into my pants?" he teased.

"You can hardly talk!" I chuckled.

I pushed my hand down inside his pants. He was already throbbing. I licked my lips. I stroked him once before he reached down and pulled my hand out.

"What are you doing?" I breathed. "Don't you want to have sex?"

"You know I do," he nodded. He rubbed the tip of his nose against mine. "But right now, I am content with this… I want to lay on the couch and make out with my girlfriend. Strictly PG."

I huffed and sank down into the cushions.

"Let's save the R-rated stuff for when we're in bed, yeah?" he hummed, his lips returning to mine.

 _Always in bed,_ I thought to myself. _We only ever have sex in bed now._

 _Where has my adventurous Christian gone?_


	6. Chapter Five

**A/N: Hey lovelies! I hope you all had a great weekend. Things are little busy on my side at the moment, so this is a longer update to tide you over. I hope I will be able to post the next chapter sometime in the next week or so, but there's a chance there could be a slight delay. Family comes first.**

 **I hope you enjoy this chapter. Is anybody ready to meet Dr Flynn?**

 **Much Love,**

 **Chelsea x**

* * *

 **Ina** – Thank you! It's great to hear from you again. I'm really glad you're enjoying the story so far. I hope you like this chapter! Much Love x

 **Susan** – Thank you! I'm really glad you're enjoying it. I hope you like this chapter. Much Love x

 **DoloresDeeHowe** – Thank you! Christian is very worried about Ana, but she's in good hands. She'll get there, in the end. I hope you like this chapter! Much Love x

 **SuzB** – Thank you! Yes, Christian, ever the romantic and protector! If he could wrap Ana up in cotton wool and keep her in his pocket, I'm sure he would. I hope you like this chapter! Much Love x

* * *

Friday came around too quickly and brought with it an unsettled feeling.

Most people spend the week praying for Friday to arrive, having planned their weekend and decided what kind of mischief they will revel in for two glorious days off work. While I enjoyed my weekends with Christian, I wasn't looking forward to this Friday and my appointment with Dr Flynn. As the hours ticked by, I found myself growing more and more restless.

It's not that I didn't like Dr Flynn, because I did. We had a great rapport, could easily bounce off each other and even shared a laugh on occasion. But having to delve into my nightmares and struggles was exhausting. I spent most of my time trying to keep a lid on how I was feeling, so to rake it up was borderline painful. I wanted to move on, I didn't want to feel this way forever, but I wished there was just some pill I could take to make it all disappear.

I tried my best to keep busy, focusing on a number of tasks that had come my way. Reports, sending and checking edits from unfinished manuscripts, contacting authors and bloggers.

Lucky for me, a distraction quite literally walked into my office at just before 1pm.

"Knock knock –"

I looked up from my desk and grinned from ear-to-ear as I saw Kate sashay into my office. Her smile matched my own, spreading high across her face. She was wearing one of her figure-hugging dresses and carrying two white paper bags.

"I hope you haven't eaten lunch yet," she sang, lifting the bags up into the air. "Because I've brought enough food to actually feed five thousand people!"

I leapt from my seat and raced around my desk to meet her. I threw my arms out and squeezed her into a tight hug, the force of my gesture exciting a giggle from her. My nose was caught in her long blonde curls, catching a whiff of her luxury shampoo and Gucci perfume.

"It's nice to know you've missed me," she chuckled. She stepped out of my embrace for a second, setting the bags down, before returning to hug me properly.

"It feels like forever since I last saw you," I sighed, despite the fact it had only been about a week since we hung out at her place for a movie marathon night.

"I know," she muttered, resting her chin on my shoulder. "Christian has been keeping me busy at work. There's a lot going on right now. Sometimes I feel like I'm chained to my desk."

I held her for a moment longer before letting go, stepping back to give her space to at least slip off her jacket.

"We've got some new campaigns starting up," she added, as if I had asked for more information. "And there's some other stuff Christian's asked me to do… I'll tell you something, there is never a chance of being bored in that place. The second I've finished one task, there's another ten lining up in front of me."

"PR sounds like an absolute nightmare," I shook my head.

"I love it," Kate smiled, her green eyes twinkling. "I feel like I've finally found my calling."

"Ma'am –"

I yanked my head to the side, feeling a tap on my shoulder. Jaz was at my heels, standing half a foot taller than me and a lot broader too.

"I'll reconvene with Sawyer in the lobby," she told me. "If you need anything –"

"I'll call you. Yes, I know the drill," I sighed. "I hardly think we'll get into any trouble up here."

Jaz didn't respond to my flippancy, instead skirting around me and heading out of the door, closing it behind her.

I let out a long breath. Kate gave me a sympathetic look.

"It must get annoying, having her hover around you all day long."

"It's not that," I shook my head. "I don't even realise she's there half the time… I'm just a bit edgy today, that's all. I have a therapy session with Dr Flynn later."

"Oh, right," Kate hummed. "Well, let's not dwell on that too much. I brought food and I'm starving, so let's stuff our faces and forget that calories actually exist."

I wasn't going to argue with that. I could already feel my stomach starting to protest, in need of something substantial to get me through the rest of the day.

Kate began lifting various pots and trays from the bags, lining them up on my desk.

"Did you send me a message to say you were coming over for lunch?" I asked her. "I can't remember receiving anything."

"No, I thought I would just come over and see if you were free," she shook her head. She looked back over her shoulder and smiled at me. "I ran into your boss in the lobby. The gorgeous Latino with the tight ass? Holy crap."

I laughed. "The gorgeous Latino is called Mark. And he's not Latino," I shook my head. "His mom is Greek Cypriot and his dad is from Maine."

"He still has a tight ass," she shrugged. "You could squeeze lemons with those babies."

"He's also extremely gay," I giggled.

She sighed, her shoulders dropping forward. "All the best ones are… Ah well, at least he's pretty to look at."

I pulled up a chair and sat down, gesturing for Kate to also take a seat. I let my eyes scan the selection of delicious treats she had brought over – sandwiches, scones, macarons, mini-cheesecakes… it was way more than either of us could manage.

"Did you buy all of this?" I wondered. "That's a lot of food for just the two of us."

"They're samples I had delivered to my office," she shook her head. "I need to sample and select some food for the Annual Grey House Ball."

"The annual what?"

She waved her hand and rolled her eyes. "It's some bullshit thing Christian holds every year, apparently," she explained. She cracked open the lid on some macarons, taking a pink one and shoving it into her mouth. "Every year, each department of GEH has an intensive audit. Every single piece of paperwork is triple-checked, everyone is appraised. Apparently it's to keep everyone on their toes, make sure we're all working towards perfection."

"That sounds like Christian," I hummed.

"Well, after the upheaval and the headaches he holds a ball to celebrate everyone's hard work," she said. "Awards are given out to the best employees. I've spoken to a lot of people and they've said it's usually a pretty good night. Christian always makes sure it's an open bar, too."

"And he's making you organise the ball?" I surmised. "That sounds like something his assistant should be doing."

"Oh Andrea is in charge but Christian asked me to get involved," she nodded. "Well, I kind of volunteered my services. I saw something on his desk and I asked if I could help. You know me, I love to plan a party."

"Do you spend a lot of time with Christian at work?" I asked.

Since she began working for him, it seemed like the two of them cross paths every day. I didn't think he would be that involved with the inner workings of his PR department.

"Yeah," Kate nodded, chewing her way through another macaron. She held the tray out to me. I took a green one and started slowly picking at it. "We have weekly check-ins. But I've been spending more time with him this past week. Like I said, there's a lot of important stuff happening over there at the moment and he needs my help with a couple things."

"What kind of things?"

"Just the usual," she smiled. "It takes a lot to maintain his perfect image, you know… I've mostly been doing some research for him, reaching out to people to lay the groundwork for when he meets with them."

I could tell by the glint in her eyes that she was enjoying her job, regardless of how rushed off her feet she must be.

"I'm glad you're getting along with each other now," I told her. "It's quite the turnaround, considering you couldn't stand to be around each other for a while."

"I saw the error of my ways," she hummed. "I had this idea of him being the big bad wolf. Some dick who didn't care about anyone but himself. For once, I'm glad I was proved wrong. I honestly can't thank him enough for what he did for me."

Helping Kate was just one of many ways Christian has proved himself to be anything but a selfish, egotistical asshole. Despite Kate's initial distrust and anger towards him, Christian went above and beyond to help her get out of the shitty situation she was in. He set aside his reluctance in talking to the press and did an exclusive, tell-all interview with her. He revealed parts of himself that only me and his family have seen. He outed us to the world. Then, hearing just how much Kate hated her job at The Seattle Times, he offered her a role at GEH. Better money, better hours, an all-round better opportunity for Kate to spread her wings and get away from her father's crushing control.

Kate and her father had always had a tumultuous relationship, but it became even more strained when he tried to make her homeless by signing her share of the apartment to me. The news had come as a shock to all of us, Don presumably forging our signatures or making us sign paperwork under false pretences. We didn't which. When Christian heard about this, he jumped into action. He cut ties with Don, who he had been in business with for years. He withdrew every penny from his shares and convinced other investors to do the same, after outing Don as a misogynist who favoured only white, middle-class men in his workplace. Christian refused to work with a bully but he didn't stop with DK Associates. He offered Ethan Kavanagh $50,000 for his half of the Pike Place apartment. It surprised me to learn that Ethan had taken the money without hesitation, but then he had never really shown any loyalty to his sister. Christian happily signed over his half of the apartment back to Kate, refusing to take a single dime from her. He didn't want to be repaid, all he wanted was to make sure she was safe and happy.

Christian understood why Kate had behaved the way she did. I had always thought they had a lot in common. Sadly, it stemmed from having a parent who didn't give a shit about them. Christian didn't know his biological father and his mother loved drugs more than she ever loved him. Kate's father didn't even want her, had tried to force her mother into getting an abortion and had effectively disowned her the moment he realised she was a girl.

A heavy feeling worked its way through my body. I shook my head and let out a hard breath.

"So…" I straightened up. I threw the macaron into my mouth and swallowed it fast, reaching for another. "You must have some gossip from GEH. What's Christian really like to work for?"

"He can be an absolute nightmare," Kate smirked, raising her brows. "When he wants something, he wants it there and then. He won't take no for an answer… But he can also be a pussycat at times."

"Christian? A pussycat?" I wasn't convinced.

"Whenever someone mentions you, he goes all gooey-eyed," she nodded. "A lot of people ask him how you are. He could spend hours talking about you and I'm not even exaggerating! He's obsessed with you. I've been in meetings with him and caught him staring at photos of you on his phone."

My cheeks warmed hearing that.

"I don't want to tempt fate or anything," Kate began, her lips stretching up into a high grin. "But he's going to marry you one day. There is no way in hell he is ever going to let you go. You've got him hook, line and sinker."

"I know," I smiled. "I can't imagine my life without him in it."

"I just hope he buys you the most expensive engagement ring in the world," she chuckled. "Because I've seen his bank statement and holy shit, you'd die if you saw just how much money he makes."

"I've already seen it for myself," I sighed, shaking my head. "I almost fainted when I saw all those zeros!"

"I read somewhere that you should spend at least one month's salary on an engagement ring," she added. "If that's the case, you're gonna be carrying around something the size of an iceberg. It'll be the son of the bastard that sank the Titanic!"

The idea of Christian getting down on one knee and proposing sent waves of excitement through me. A part of me knew it would happen one day, but the other couldn't believe that he might actually ask me to be his wife.

Besides, we're light-years away from that.

"Speaking of Christian," Kate said, turning on her seat to face me properly. She crossed her legs and draped her arm along the back of her chair. "Is he taking you to dinner at his parents' house tonight?"

"No…?"

"Oh, it's just I overheard him and Elliot talking about it earlier," she frowned. "Apparently their mom wants the whole family together. I assumed Christian would take you with him."

"He hasn't mentioned it to me," I shook my head.

While it wasn't usual for me and Christian to spend the occasional evening apart, he normally gave me plenty of warning so I could make plans with Kate or Ray. My dad had been spending a lot of time in the city recently, something I was glad of.

"Maybe he's waiting to ask you after work," she added. "I'm working late tonight, going over some party plans with Andrea."

I gave her a smile and reached for another sweet treat.

"So…" Kate puffed out her cheeks. She drummed her fingers against the back of her chair. "Is your boss one hundred percent gay or do I stand a small chance in turning him?"

"You'd be wasting your time," I smirked, shaking my head. "He's taken and I'd say that Christian's more his type than you… You should see his boyfriend. He's a model. He's on the billboard a couple blocks away."

"Don't tell me he's the watch guy?" she shook her head, her mouth hanging open. I nodded. "He's dating the 'you should be looking at the watch, not my abs' guy? Jeez… Are you trying to ruin my day!?"

"You're just looking in the wrong places," I told her. "Mr Right is out there for you, you just have to find him… That is, if you haven't already."

She knew what I meant by that. She arched her brow at me and slowly shook her head.

"That ship has sailed," she muttered. "Elliot isn't interested in me like that and it'd just complicate things now I'm working for Christian… Come on, eat up. I need to know which of these taste good and which should be drop-kicked off the face of the earth. I trust your palate more than mine, even if you do eat pineapple on pizzas!"

* * *

I lolled my head to the side and glanced at Christian. He caught me staring, shooting me a look from the corner of his eye.

"You okay?" he asked.

"You didn't have to drive me here," I said, avoiding his question. "I'd already asked Jaz and Sawyer to bring me here after work."

"I know you did," he nodded, slowing the car down as we approached our turning. "But I wanted to drive you. Moral support."

I smiled, thanking him. "I just assumed you'd be working late," I mumbled. "Fridays are always super busy for you."

I had lost count of the times he had worked late into the night, determined to finish all his outstanding tasks so we could spend the weekend in peace, our focus only on each other.

"They are," he agreed with a nod. He turned his chin towards me and smiled. "But you come first. You need me more than a stack of documents that I have to sign off on… Right, here we are."

Christian swung the car to the left, squeezing us onto the driveway of a modest, Victorian style house. I unbuckled my seat belt and stared up at the property. It was a simple looking house, the windows all glowing amber, an inviting hue that urged me to head on inside. The gentle and calming exterior perfectly matched the feel of the house. It was a safe place, full of children's laughter.

It was Christian's suggestion that I have my therapy sessions in a place more comfortable than the J & R offices that he attends for his own sessions. I was adamant that I didn't want to take my problems home to Escala, so Dr Flynn offered to conduct my sessions from the Flynn family home. It was a good decision all around. I liked to hear the children playing. It helped break me out of my thoughts and remind me that there is still unadulterated, uncomplicated bliss to be felt. It gave me hope.

I opened my door and climbed out, waiting for Christian to join me. He held out his hand, which I gripped tight as we walked to the porch.

Before we could ring the bell, the door was yanked open and with it came a blast of giggles.

John stood in front of us, wearing a dark green sweater and stonewash jeans, an outfit far removed from the mismatched suits I had often seen him in. His grey-flecked brown hair was ruffled, his square glasses sitting crookedly on his nose. He looked flustered and, really, it was no surprise. Tiny hands refused to leave his glasses alone, the boy sitting on his hip finding it hilarious to push the frames up and down.

"I've been home for an hour and they are already driving me mad," John growled, turning his head to his son. He bounced the boy, pulling another fit of giggles from him. "Come on inside. Be careful though, the boys are even more hyper than usual tonight."

I smiled and stepped over the divide, Christian following behind me. John closed the door and hunched forward, setting his son down on the ground. The little boy quickly sprang into action, bypassing me and making a bee-line for Christian. He threw his arms around Christian's legs, hugging him as tight as he could.

"Which one is this?" Christian asked quietly, arching his brow as he stared down at the terror currently pulling at his pants.

"Thomas," John smiled. "William is busy in the lounge. Last time I checked he was decapitating Harriet's dolls."

I broke into a grin as I watched Christian try to peel Thomas from his leg. He bent forward and made promises of candy and pocket money, speaking in a soft and luring voice. It made my heart swell, seeing him interact with the Flynn children. He was a natural, despite his awkwardness. All three kids loved him, which definitely helped matters. I knew that once the other two realised he was here, they would accost him just as Thomas had.

"Right, Thomas, go find your brother and sister," John ordered him, lifting Thomas up by the armpits and setting him down away from Christian. "If you're a good boy, you can have one of the biscuits Nana brought over. But do not tell your siblings, okay?"

He had said the magic word, the promise of cookies sending the six-year-old running down the hall.

"Thanks for that," Christian said, blowing out his cheeks, his shoulders dropping with relief.

"Just you wait until you two start having kids," John smirked. "I'll warn you, it's a slippery slope. One's a pet, two's a zoo."

"What about three?"

"An absolute nightmare," John sighed. His smile stretched even higher. "But I wouldn't change it for the world."

"I think we're a long way off that," Christian retorted. He snapped his head in my direction and I cheerfully nodded. Neither of us were ready for that leap. "I'm not ready to share Ana yet."

I caught John's eye, his expression placid and gentle. I could tell he was impressed by Christian's answer. Impressed by the fact he said 'yet' and not 'we're never having kids'. John had reminded me several times that Christian was a different person now to who he was before I met him. The old Christian was never going to entertain the idea of a mini-me.

"Ana," John smiled at me. "Rhian's waiting for you in her study."

"Thanks," I nodded.

I gave Christian's arm a squeeze before I left the two men in the hall, turning on my heels and heading down the path I had walked several times over the last few months.

I approached the small, impish study at the back of the house and rapped my knuckles on the closed door. Hearing a high-pitched 'come in!', I turned the knob and entered. I was immediately greeted by a broad smile and open arms.

"Ana –"

Rhian quickly made her way over to me, throwing her arms out and pulling me into a warm hug. I sank into her hold, breathing a sigh of relief as I felt her electric, joyful aura transfer from her body to mine.

The barriers between us had been broken long ago, after our first meeting. I didn't need a therapist who would leave me feeling intimidated and Rhian didn't want a patient who was scared to open up to her. During that first session, we didn't even talk about Maîtrise. We got to know each other and quickly the tension between us faded. Although therapy was exhausting, I came here feeling like I was talking to a friend, not a complete stranger.

But her casual demeanour and our surroundings by no means compromised her professionalism or skill. Dr Rhian Flynn is an incredible therapist, her husband her number one fan.

Rhian specialised in adult trauma, whereas John focused mainly on people who experienced trauma and abuse in childhood. Christian had reached out to John in the immediate aftermath of Maîtrise, with the aim of him taking me on as a patient. But, thankfully, John suggested I talk to his wife instead. I was glad he said that. I couldn't imagine sharing the same therapist as Christian. There needs to be some boundaries, some degree of separation between us.

It did seem odd to me, however, that two therapists would marry each other. I wondered how their marriage worked, whether they would constantly analyse each other's every move. But Rhian had answered my curiosity, telling me that it brought them closer together. They had met in university, back in England, and had been inseparable ever since. They set up their own office here in Seattle and, each night, they left work at the door.

Except for me. I'm the only patient who comes here for treatment.

"I'm glad you could make it," Rhian hummed in her sing-song Irish accent.

She slipped out of our hug and moved deeper into her study. She was a petite woman, several inches shorter than me, and bore the evidence of three children through her ample curves. Her black hair was held back in a top knot, freeing up her elven features.

"I'm sorry I had to cancel our last session," she apologised. She walked over to the small couch against the back wall, gesturing for me to sit down. "Harriet ended up with a 24-hour virus, which quickly spread through the rest of us like wildfire."

"It's fine," I smiled, taking a seat. Rhian opted for the armchair opposite. Between us, on the coffee table, was a pot of tea and two cups, and a small plate of homemade shortbread. She always had something sweet to hand, alongside a box of tissues. "I'm glad you emailed me. It came at just the right time."

"Yeah, you said you hadn't been feeling right?" she remembered. She leaned forward and poured our tea, adding a generous glug of milk to her own.

I opened my mouth and let out a hard sigh, which was quickly followed by words I had no control over. I blurted out everything that had unfolded at the medical centre with Rachel and José, revealing how upset I had been, how painful it was to hear that José didn't want me anywhere near him. I was already neck-deep in guilt but to hear it confirmed aloud was like being kicked in the teeth. To hear that José and his family had placed me in the same category as _that woman_ …

"I'm really sorry you had to deal with that level of confrontation," Rhian said quietly, cupping her tea between her hands. Her dark blue eyes were full of sympathy, roaming my face as she took in what I had said. "Has José already left the medical centre here?"

I nodded my head. I fiddled with my own cup, my half-finished tea now cold and too bitter to drink.

"I called the centre yesterday," I admitted. It was something I hadn't even told Christian. "They couldn't tell me anything more than he had been discharged on Wednesday morning."

"And you didn't see José on Tuesday, when you went to visit him?" she asked. I shook my head. "So you only spoke to his cousin?"

"Rachel said he didn't want to see me."

"Do you believe her?"

I frowned. "Why wouldn't I?"

"You said José and Rachel are extremely close," she offered, reclining a little in her chair. "Is it possible that Rachel is doing what anyone does when someone they love is hurting? Do you think she could be protecting him?"

"I know he blames me," I shook my head.

"You don't," Rhian countered. "You haven't heard any of this from him. You don't know what he's thinking or feeling. You can't take what anyone else says as gospel. It's hearsay."

"But –"

"Ana, you're clinging onto the belief that everyone is blaming you for what happened because you are already shouldering the blame yourself," she continued. "Yes, Rachel said those things to you but I'd imagine she's acting out of fear and concern."

"I could see it in her eyes," I sighed. "She hates me. She said I was using José, that I had been leading him on for years."

"Were you?"

"No," I shook my head, adamant. "Of course I knew he liked me. But I never played on that. I did the opposite! When he kissed me at that party, I made it one hundred percent clear that I wasn't interested in him."

"So why do you think you're guilty?" she asked, shrugging her shoulders. "Because that's what I'm hearing. You told him no, said you weren't interested, yet now you're accepting the blame for his actions? You believe it was your fault he came to Seattle and was abducted by Elena and her boyfriend?"

"I shouldn't have blocked his number," I mumbled. "If I had just spoken to him the morning after the exhibit, he wouldn't have come here."

"You don't know that," she shot back. "We don't know how that conversation would have played out. He could still have come here to see you… Ana, what Elena Lincoln did to him was not your fault."

"She wouldn't have known about José if –"

"Stop playing the what-if game," Rhian told me. "You have no idea what would have happened. Things may have been different, things could have been a lot worse. From what I know of Elena Lincoln, she would have found other ways of getting to you. She was a relentless monster who would have stopped at nothing."

"You knew her?"

"Mostly by name," she nodded. "What I'm trying to tell you is that you have no control over other people. You had no control over what José did in coming to find you at your apartment. You had no control over what Elena did to him and Leila."

Christian's words from the other night swirled around my mind, matching what Rhian was saying.

"If I throw this cup across the room right now," Rhian said, lifting her cup up into the air. "If I hurl it at the wall and it smashes into a million pieces, whose fault would that be?"

"Yours," I whispered.

"And if I cut my finger picking up the broken pieces, who is to blame for that?"

"You."

She arched her brow at me, refusing to shift her gaze even an inch. She stared me out until I had fully absorbed her words.

"You and Rachel are doing the same thing, you know," she said calmly. "You're blaming the wrong person for what happened in that club. You're letting the person who actually caused all of this pain get away scot free."

"She's not here though, is she?" I retorted, a huff in my voice. "She's not here to answer for what she did. That fucking bitch has got away scot free because she isn't here, she escaped all of this bullshit and left the rest of us to deal with the fall out!"

Rhian pursed her lips.

"I'm sorry," I breathed. "I shouldn't curse."

"Do you think I'm going to chastise you for swearing?" she tilted her head. "I'm Irish, I came out of my mother's womb swearing!"

I cracked a smile.

"You can still blame her even if she isn't here," Rhian added. "Just because she's dead, it doesn't absolve her from what she did. She still did those things."

"It's just hard," I muttered. "I want to hurt her. I want to make her suffer."

"It's completely normal to feel that way."

"But it's not normal, though," I shook my head. "None of this is normal."

"It's a normal reaction to have in the aftermath of trauma," she clarified. "What you witnessed in that club, what happened to you, was horrendous. No one should have to endure that."

"It was nothing compared to what José went through."

"José's suffering lasted longer than yours," she agreed. "But don't play down your own trauma. You were a victim too."

"I don't want to be a victim. I don't want to be _her_ victim."

"Then stop blaming yourself for what she did," she told me. "If I thought for a second that you were to blame, I'd tell you. I wouldn't sugar coat it just to save your feelings. I'm not here to molly-coddle you."

I studied her expression and knew she was telling the truth.

"My aim in all of this," she continued. "The whole purpose of these sessions is to help you survive what happened. Because you are a survivor. You survived the fire. You're still here now, aren't you?"

"I guess…"

"You need to give yourself credit for simply being here," she urged. "Because I have seen so many people crumble under the weight of something like this. You have survived this far and I know you have it in you to survive beyond this moment. You might not feel strong right now, but you are stronger than you think. You're listening to the voice in your head that wants to keep you locked in this feeling. It happens to all of us at some point or another. We all have a self-destruct switch, we just need to stop you from triggering it."

"Do you think José will be okay?" I asked, needing to hear a professional opinion. "What do you think will happen to him now?"

"Well, I'd hope he's being moved to another facility," she sighed. "It'd be too dangerous to pull him out of therapy all together."

"Do you think he'll ever talk to me again?"

"You know I can't answer that," she shook her head. "So you need to prepare yourself for the possibility that this might be the end of your friendship with him."

I didn't want to let go of José. It was why I hadn't broken our friendship when I first realised he was attracted to me. I needed a friend. I was a loner, always had been.

"Do you think he can recover from this? Go on to lead a normal life again?"

"He would need to establish a new kind of normality," Rhian replied. "But I firmly believe that everyone is capable of recovery, regardless of the level of trauma they have endured. No one is beyond help. It's just a matter of finding what works for them. Traditional talking therapy doesn't work for everyone, in the same way that medication doesn't work for everyone. Recovery is about finding what works for you, what helps you get through those low points."

"Christian thinks it's a good thing José has left Seattle," I told her. "He thinks I need to let go and focus on myself."

"I think I'm inclined to agree with him on that," she nodded. "You strike me as someone who has always put other people first. Well, it's time that you start putting yourself first. Do you want to move on with your life?"

"Yes."

"The only way to do that is to focus on yourself," she told me. She leaned forward and set her cup down on the coffee table. "So aside from the setback with José and his cousin, how has the rest of your week been?"

"Okay, I guess."

"Have you had any nightmares?"

"I haven't had one since I first left the hospital," I shook my head.

"Any flashbacks?"

"Not really… When I hear _her_ name, it kind of brings it back. I try not to think about her too much."

"And how is work going?"

"Good," I nodded. Another slight smile appeared on my lips. "Really good actually. We had a launch party on Monday for a book I've been working on. It went really well."

"That's great," she grinned back at me. "It's good that you have something to channel your energy into."

"But distractions are only a temporary relief," I told her, throwing back the words she had said to me so many times throughout our sessions together.

Her grin grew higher.

"At least you listen to me," she laughed. "Distractions can be great. But I like to think as distractions like a rocking chair. You can sit on one for hours, rocking back and forth, enjoying the swing of it, but you never get anywhere. You're still in the exact same spot at the end of the day."

I stewed on her analogy for a few seconds, the simple comment speaking volumes to me. It amazed me how she has a knack for breaking things down and explaining them in a way that is easy to understand.

I guess that's why Christian is paying her a lot of money to help me…

"Can I ask you something?" I muttered, holding her stare.

"You know you can ask whatever you want," Rhian nodded.

"Will I feel like this forever? Will I always feel a little bit… I don't know… damaged?"

"Define damaged?"

"Like there's a piece of me missing," I shrugged. "Like the old me has gone and I can't ever get that back."

She paused for a moment, taking a deep breath before she answered me.

"You'll never forget what happened," she began. Her voice was strong and unwavering. "It will always stay with you, you can't wipe it out of your memory. But you can – _we can_ – work through this rough patch."

"There's no time frame to work from, is there?" I asked.

"I can't tell you if this will take weeks or months or even years," she shook her head. "Some people recover quicker, some people take a little longer. Everyone is different, so don't feel disheartened if it does take a while to get back to how you were. You will get there, I know you will."

"Do you think I'll ever be able to shut _her_ out completely?"

"One day you'll realise she doesn't have any control over you," Rhian said confidently. "One day you'll realise you don't need to block her out, you won't be afraid of her and the way she made you feel."

"Really?"

"Because you will eventually stop thinking about her as much as you do right now," she nodded. "She won't be that ghost haunting you day in, day out. She'll be just a passing thought that you can acknowledge but tell yourself is insignificant to you and your life."

I held onto Rhian's words, clutching with all my might. I longed for the day I no longer felt her presence.

"Do you believe time is a great healer?" I asked.

Rhian let out a huff and rolled her eyes.

"I think that is probably the worst phrase ever to be said," she shook her head. "Time doesn't heal anything. Not where emotions are concerned. The only thing time gives us is distance from the moment that caused you pain and upset. Often times, people become numb to the pain and think they have moved on, when really they've just got used to feeling that way. The only way to move on is to deal with the problem. You can't bury your head in the sand and pray that in a year's time everything is magically better."

I broke into a small laugh.

"What's so funny?" Rhian wondered, returning my giggle.

"Do you and John treat people in the same way? Because I can't imagine Christian listening to this kind of stuff."

"No, John and Christian have a specific way of tackling his problems," she confirmed. "But overall our approach is the same. With Christian, however, John keeps his comments blunt and straightforward. Christian doesn't like wearing rose-tinted glasses, as I'm sure you know. You wouldn't see them talking over a pot of tea and some biscuits, that's for sure!"

Bringing Christian into the conversation signalled the end of our session. I agreed to make another appointment for next week, as soon as I had time to check my schedule on Monday morning. My eagerness to book my next session seemed to impress Rhian. I sensed she appreciated patients who actually wanted to get better.

We exited the study and made our way back towards the lounge, following the sound of squealing and child-play. I slipped into the room behind Rhian and spotted the twins crawling on the floor, surrounded by a mountain of toys. The youngest Flynn, Harriet, was sat quietly on the couch, fussing over her doll.

Christian was sat with John on the couch opposite from Harriet, the two of them hunched close together. John was thumbing through a black notebook, similar to the one I had seen Christian flicking through on Monday.

Was it the same book?

I wondered if maybe it was Christian's journal. He didn't seem like the type of person to keep a journal, but it could be a part of his sessions with John…

"Can't you two just play with one toy at time?" Rhian sighed, standing over her sons with her hands firmly on her hips.

"Noooo!" they shouted in unison.

Christian lifted his head and caught my eye. He quickly sat up straight, his shoulders reeling back. John was slower on the uptake, dragging his gaze up from the book, but he promptly closed it and passed it over to Christian.

"Are you finished?" Christian asked, rising to his feet. I nodded my head. "Right, in that case we'll get out of your hair," he said, glancing back at John.

He shook hands with John and then went over to Rhian, offering his hand out to her too.

"Nice seeing you again," he said.

"You know you're always welcome here," Rhian grinned. "The kids certainly love having you here… Come on kids, say goodbye to Christian and Ana."

The twins barely looked up from the floor, shouting back a loud 'bye!'. But Harriet silently slipped off the couch and came over to us. She was on the small side for four-years-old, but she was Rhian's double with her black hair and sapphire eyes.

She stood in front of Christian, her head arched back as she stared up at him.

"See you next time," Christian mumbled. He reached out and ruffled her hair, giving her a flash of a smile. "Make sure your dad gives you one of your grandmother's famous cookies. He's hiding them in the kitchen."

"Hey!" John sighed, shaking his head. "If my kids end up with cavities, I'll come to you for their dental bills."

Christian smirked and took my hand, leading me out of the lounge. I waved goodbye, smiling at Harriet as she stared after us. Her little hand waved back, her pink lips splitting into a grin.

We let ourselves out of the house, Christian's fingers linked with mine as he escorted me back to the car. He made sure I was safely in my seat and buckled up before he shut my door and moved over to the driver's side.

"Time to get you home," he breathed, twisting his chin to me. "What do you think about having a long soak in the bath, followed by wine and pizza, maybe even one of those awful movies you seem to enjoy so much?"

My brows pulled together into a deep frown.

"You're not going to your parents' for dinner?"

"What?" he jerked his head back. "How did you -?"

"Kate said you were going there for dinner," I said. "I had lunch with her today. She said she'd overheard you and Elliot talking about it."

"Right," he hummed. His throat bobbed. "Well, we were supposed to go over there for dinner but I called ahead and said we couldn't make it. Grace wasn't impressed but I put my foot down."

"Huh?"

"I didn't think you would be up for socialising, not after meeting with Rhian," he explained. "You're always too tired."

"I was invited?" I whispered.

"What?" he squinted. "Why would you think otherwise?"

I shrugged my shoulders.

He let out a sigh and reached across to pick up my hand. He lifted it to his mouth, his lips spreading light kisses across my knuckles.

"Ana," he breathed. "You can't honestly think that my family would invite me to dinner and not insist you come along too. I'm pretty sure they like you more than me now!"

I cracked a smile.

"Of course you were invited," he promised. "You're an honorary Grey."

"So are we going to dinner then?"

He pursed his lips and fell silent for a second.

"Do you want to go to dinner at my parents' house?"

I nodded my head.

"You're not too tired?"

"It'd be nice to spend some time with your family," I said. "I think it'll help me unwind from my session."

He licked his lips and slowly nodded his head. He gave me a quick smile and another kiss on the back of my hand.

"Bellevue here we come," he sighed, turning his attention to the steering wheel.


	7. Chapter Six

**A/N: Hello Lovelies! I hope you're having a great weekend so far.**

 **As I mentioned at the start of the story, some chapters will be written from other characters' perspectives. This chapter is from Christian's POV. I've kept all chapters from other characters' POV in third person, to help distinguish them from Ana's narrative. But you'll still get internal thoughts and insights!**

 **I hope you like this chapter! Thank you again for the support on this story. I hope you're enjoying reading it as much as I'm enjoying writing it. :)**

 **Much Love,**

 **Chelsea x**

* * *

 **Susan** – Thank you! I'm glad you're enjoying it. I have high hopes that Ana will be able to recover from this, but I think it may take some time! Much Love x

 **SuzB** – Thank you! I'm glad you liked the twist on Ana's therapist! Oh I agree with you, I want Kate and Elliot to get back together! Maybe one day in the future? ;) Much Love x

 **Reds77** – Thank you! I had decided a long time ago that I wanted Rhian to become Ana's therapist, so I'm glad you liked her addition to the story. Much Love x

 **DoloresDeeHowe** – Thank you! I'm really glad you're enjoying it. I hope you continue to enjoy it as the story unfolds! Much Love x

* * *

 **CHRISTIAN**

Christian's gaze darted between his therapist and the little girl sitting across the room from them. Her azure-coloured eyes were fixed on him, a pure smile on her pink lips. She clutched a doll to her chest, holding it tight, rocking it gently back and forth like you would a newborn.

He let out a sigh, his eyes dropping to the floor. The Flynn boys were crawling around, banging their trucks together and giggling.

"Can't we do this in another room?" Christian asked, keeping his voice low.

It wasn't that he didn't like the children. They had their merits and seemed to like him being there, but he didn't think they should be having this conversation around them. Their minds were too precious and innocent for this.

"If I don't keep an eye on them, they'll only start pestering Rhian," John explained, shaking his head. He offered Christian a sympathetic smile. "Sorry… But I can guarantee they aren't actually listening to us right now. They only ever listen to me when I'm holding sweets."

Christian sighed again and shrugged his shoulders. He made a mental note not to curse. John would never forgive him if his kids started shouting 'fuck' or 'bastard'.

 _Fuck knows what will happen when me and Ana eventually have kids… They'll be cursing before they can say their own god damn names!_

"So you said you had something you needed to show me?" John prompted, edging closer to Christian on the couch, turning his slim torso towards him.

"I was going to wait until our session next week but I need to get this off my chest," Christian nodded. He reached inside his pocket and retrieved the black notebook he had been carrying on him since the moment he had obtained it. "I was given this on Monday."

With some reluctance he handed over the book. A part of him didn't want to give it up, didn't feel comfortable without it either being in his hands or safely locked away in the top drawer of his desk.

"It belonged to Elena," Christian whispered, his lips curling into a grimace as he uttered her name.

He wasn't scared to say her name, but he had a bitter taste in his mouth every time he even thought about her. He had tried to stop himself from saying her name in front of Ana. He didn't like the way she flinched whenever Elena came up in conversation.

"How did you get it?" John asked.

"Her lawyer," Christian said. He brought his hand to his cheek and rubbed it hard, making his skin red. "He called to say that she'd left me everything. I was the sole beneficiary in her will."

"My days…"

"She had a safety deposit box," Christian continued. "I went to empty it and found that. It was the only thing in there."

"Didn't her lawyer ask if you wanted them to redistribute the assets elsewhere?" John frowned. "Wasn't he aware of what she had done to you and Ana?"

"He knew," Christian nodded. "And he asked the question. I told him no. I said I would accept it."

"You did?"

This revelation surprised John. His dark eyes widened, his head lilting to the side as he studied Christian's expression.

"I don't know why I said it," Christian shook his head. He looked as confused as John did. "Maybe I should have told him to stick it where the sun doesn't shine… It's not as if I want any of her sh –"

He bit down on his tongue and blew out a slow breath.

"I don't need reminders of her. I don't want any of her stuff. But something inside me couldn't say no."

"I can understand that," John replied. "It must have come as a shock to you."

John dropped his gaze to the book in his hands. He ran his thumb over the cover, feeling the worn leather. A cold shiver ran through him. Something told him he wasn't going to like what was inside the book.

"Dare I ask what this is?"

"It's her journal," Christian said. "A record. She kept details of everyone she used."

John glanced at him.

"In the same way she used me," Christian clarified. "It starts with me. I'm the first entry."

"You've been through it?"

He nodded. "It ends with the detective she was seeing before she died."

"How did it make you feel?" John asked.

Christian resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He always hated that question.

John flicked open the book and scanned the first page.

Elena Lincoln hadn't just kept details of her conquests, she kept explicit notes on each of her victims. What they looked like, how she met them, how quickly their encounters progressed to something more sinister…

"Do you think she meant for you to see this? Do you think that's why she left you everything?"

"I'm not sure," Christian shook his head. "She was twisted enough, so maybe. I think she left me everything so I would have a permanent reminder of her, but I don't know if she meant for me to see that book. Not after what I found in it."

John reluctantly studied the first entry. He didn't want to delve too deep into Elena's thoughts and sadistic behaviour, but he could tell that Christian needed him to. Christian needed his help and he wasn't going to let him down. Christian had been let down by too many people throughout his life, John was determined he would never join that list.

John had had the misfortune of meeting Elena a few times over the years, mostly at functions Grace Trevelyan held at her home in Bellevue. From that very first meeting, John thought Elena was a classic case of 'mutton dressed up as lamb'. She wasn't beautiful by any standards, but he could understand why some people might be drawn to her. She was powerful, she exuded strength and allure. She could even be charming.

She had tried to befriend John after she learnt of his connection to Christian. John knew from the beginning what she was trying to do. She knew he would try to make Christian realise that what she did to him – what she was still doing to him – was wrong. She wanted to come between them, keep Christian under her thumb for as long as humanly possible. John, who was a natural people-person and made friends with just about everyone he met, was always cold and distant with Elena. He couldn't stand to be in the same room as her. She made his skin crawl, knowing how she had preyed on a fifteen-year-old boy.

John had been Christian's therapist for more than five years but it was only recently that he had seen a change in his patient. Christian had always closed off his ears and ignored the truth about Elena. He refused to see it. But Ana had somehow given him a new perspective on his past. John could remember the day Christian came into his office and revealed that he had met someone new. He had assumed Christian meant a new submissive, but was pleasantly surprised when he shook his head.

 _No. She's different_ , he had told John. _I don't want her like a sub. Yes, I want to do those things with her but… I don't understand it. She's so different. She makes me want… She makes me want more from this. From all of this_ …

Ana had achieved more with Christian in just five minutes than John had in as many years. He tried not to take this as a jibe at his methods. Christian was his most complex and challenging patient, after all.

John inhaled a deep breath and soaked in the entry on Christian. His name was written along the top line, followed by a brief explanation about how Elena had convinced Grace to let him do weekend work at her house. Tidying up, simple repairs, that sort of thing.

 **Fifteen Y/O**

 **Slight of build but shows promise of one day filling out his frame. Some facial hair starting to grow around chin and lip. Saw some pubic hair when he was reaching up on the ladder, definitely mature for his age.**

 **Very temperamental. Shows dominance and submission in equal measures. Once tamed, he will make an excellent sub. I can see him staring at me if I wear short skirts. He's tempted. He wants me.**

 **Aug 1st – I caught him taking cash from my purse. I punished him with a slap and then kissed him. He wanted to fight back but he enjoyed it. He was hard when I walked away from him.**

Bile crept into John's mouth.

The next ten pages were dedicated to Christian. Sickening details of their encounters. She was methodical, obsessive. She kept a log of the dates, times, what equipment she used on him.

 _I always knew she was a bloody nutcase,_ John shook his head. _But this? How had she got away with this for so long? Why didn't anyone notice what she was doing?_

Christian cleared his throat, drawing John's attention back up to him. He could sense that his therapist wasn't taking the news well. John was looking more and more uncomfortable by the second.

"I checked everyone in there," he explained. "There are two other boys she preyed on after I ended things between us. I've marked the pages –"

John flicked through the book until he came to the first dog-eared page. He always assumed that Elena had other underage victims, it had seemed illogical to him to think she had only abused Christian.

But to have it confirmed, in writing, made his stomach turn.

 **Alexander Bradford.**

 **Fifteen Y/O – turned sixteen shortly after our first meeting.**

 **Son of Charles Bradford, of Affinity Industries. Met at Charles's birthday party.**

 **He responded instantly to mild flirtation. Gave him some champagne and he was open to seduction. He is very charming, like his father. Shows submissive traits and appeared shy when I complimented him. I have no doubt he will submit easily.**

 **Enjoys being tied to the bed. Will only withstand mild pain. No edging.**

"I know I've never made my feelings about her clear to you before," John said, glancing up at Christian. "But I hated her. Always have. More so now."

Christian simply nodded his head.

"I can't believe she kept details. It's so perverted…"

"If this is a complete list of everyone she ever used, it looks like I was her first minor," Christian said, shrugging his shoulders. "Which makes sense, really. All of her subs looked like me. I was the first one."

"Can you be sure of that? What about before you?"

"Linc was her first relationship," Christian explained. "She married him straight out of high school. She hadn't been with anyone before him"

"Did she tell you that?"

"Linc did," he sighed. "Before he found out about us, obviously. He used to brag to everyone about how she was 'pure' before he touched her. She used to tell me that Linc had brought out the evil in her."

"Did they practice that kind of stuff together?" John asked coyly, his gaze darting to his sons playing near his feet.

Christian nodded. "She wanted to top and that's why she preyed on me. It wasn't until several years into our relationship that I realised she had effectively practised on me."

"Was she still intimate with Linc while you and her were together?"

"Yes. It only ended when he found out about us."

"She told her husband about you, didn't she?" John recalled.

"She wanted a way out," Christian nodded again. "She wanted me full-time, she had already tried to convince me about it. I said no. I wanted to end that side of our relationship, I needed to move on, but she wouldn't accept it. So she took matters into her own hands."

 _And ended up with a three week stay in hospital because of it_ , John thought to himself. _It's only what someone like her deserved_ …

John continued to read the entry on Alexander, discovering that his relationship with Elena lasted just five months before he ended it. She simply wrote: **Too immature when it got intense. Waste of time. Stupid little boy.**

Her next conquest was a 32-year-old dentist from Chicago.

John continued on to the next victim.

 **Jake Costello.**

 **Fourteen Y/O.**

 **Took a lot of persuasion. More than three months of trust building before he was open to seducing. He eventually caved and submitted to me.**

 **Very timid. Looks young for his age, but is good match for CG.**

 **Needed to be slow with approach to play. Must tread carefully. Need this one to be long term. If I can't have CG, this one will do.**

"Well, I guess this confirms that she was indeed obsessed with you," John sighed. He dragged his hand down his face, feeling the colour draining from his cheeks.

Christian nodded sombrely.

"I'm sorry you had to receive this," John said, lowering the book to rest against his thighs. "You and Ana are just getting back to some sense of normality and then this drops into your hands? You can't seem to catch a break, can you?"

"It came as a shock," Christian admitted, letting out a long and heavy breath. His body slumped forward. "She's screwing with us from beyond the grave… But I'm glad I found that –" he pointed at the book.

John's brows lowered around his eyes, knitting together into a hard frown.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"The other boys," Christian began. "They're men now, obviously, but they're still her victims. I need to find them."

"Wait, what?"

John jerked his head back, stunned. His mouth was poised open, ready to unleash his protest.

"You can't talk me out of this," Christian cut in, shaking his head. "I've already made up my mind. I need to find these men and make sure they're okay. Make sure they get whatever help they need."

"Christian, this is a potentially very dangerous move. You have no idea how these men might be feeling, what state their mental health is in. You could be reopening a lot of old wounds for them."

"I know I have to be careful, I know I need to plan how I'll approach them. I'm not stupid," he replied. "But I have to do something. The police can't help any of us now, too much time has passed and she's dead. She can't answer for what she did."

"Which is why you shouldn't pursue this," John shook his head. "The repercussions could be devastating. For everyone."

"She's already caused so much pain," Christian continued. John could tell by the glint in his eyes that Christian wasn't going to back down. His mind was set and nothing could dissuade him now. "I need to make sure they're okay, check that they've managed to overcome what happened to them. That's all."

"Why?"

"Because she hurt them –"

"No, I mean why do _you_ need to do this?" John clarified.

Christian pursed his lips, stealing a second to gather his thoughts.

"It started with me," he grumbled. His eyes fell on the book. "All of that, it started with me. I know she manipulated me, I know she abused her position, but if I had just said something. If I hadn't been so easily seduced –"

"None of that was your fault," John tried to assure him, as he had during so many of their sessions. "She got inside your head and made you think what was happening was acceptable. You were a child."

"I was 21 when she first approached Alexander Bradford," Christian sighed. "I was 25 when she preyed on Jake Costello. I was an adult, had been for a long time. I should have said something. I should have asked more questions about who she was seeing. I could have stopped her."

"You and I both know she wouldn't have listened to you," John shot back. "She did whatever the hell she liked. She didn't care about anyone but herself."

"If she messed with their heads half as much as she did with mine…" Christian blew out his cheeks. "They could be out there struggling, not knowing where to turn for help. They shouldn't have to spend their entire adult lives feeling bad because of what she did to them."

"You say they're adults now, but only just!" John reminded him. "Alexander would be, I don't know, 23? Jesus, this Jake is practically still a boy."

"He'd be eighteen now," Christian nodded. "I can't just sit back and do nothing. It'll eat me alive if I do."

"I can't condone this. It's too dangerous."

"I've already started my searches," he revealed, though the news didn't really shock his therapist. John was running low on shock, already full to the brim. "I've started with Alexander, only because his entry came first in the book. His father owned Affinity Industries, one of the biggest corporations in the area. Alexander inherited the company when he was 20 but he sold it within a few months."

"Where is he now?"

"I don't know," Christian sighed. "He's dropped off the radar since. But I'm not alone in trying to find him. Elliot and Kate are helping me."

"Kate?" John queried. "As in Kate Kavanagh? Ana's friend?"

Christian nodded.

"She has some connections from when she worked at the newspaper," he explained. "Plus, I need someone to keep an eye on Ana while I'm focusing on this. I asked her to join Ana for lunch today because I couldn't get out of the office. I didn't want her to be alone. She gets anxious before her sessions with Rhian."

"Does Ana know about the book?"

"No," Christian shook his head, defiantly. "She's not well enough, not yet. She's getting better but I can't risk setting her back. This will destroy her."

"Is she struggling that much?"

"She has good days, times when I think she's going to be fine," Christian sighed. He licked his lips, uncomfortable talking about Ana while she was only down the hall. "But I see her at her lowest. When she can hardly stand up because she's crying so hard… I'm doing everything I can to keep things stable for her. I just want my Ana back."

John raised his hand and set it gently on Christian's forearm. He slowly patted his arm, glad when Christian didn't flinch or shift away.

"She's still my Ana, she's still the same person," he continued. "But she's different… It's like the light in her eyes has been dimmed. I can see the innocence in her fading a little more each day."

"Do you and her talk about what happened?"

"Sometimes," he nodded. He rubbed his cheeks again. John could see Christian's eyes starting to water. "She finds it difficult to talk about Elena. She can't even stand to hear her name being said. She isn't ready to know about this yet. She's not strong enough."

"Maybe you're not giving her enough credit?"

"I'm with her every day. You don't see her like I do, you don't see her when she's falling apart," Christian retorted. "And I know what you're going to say, that this is going to cause more trouble for me when she inevitably finds out. But I'll cross that bridge when I come to it. It's not that I don't want to tell her. I don't want to keep secrets from her, but at the same time –"

"You don't want to be the cause of any more distress?"

"Exactly."

"It's hard, isn't it?" John sighed. "When all you want to do is protect the ones you love. When they're in pain and there's nothing you can do to stop it."

"Does it get worse when you have children?"

"A million times worse," John nodded. His eyes darted between his kids, his heart filling with love all over again when he took in their beautiful faces. "I understand why you want to protect Ana but as your therapist, and as your friend, I'm telling you that you should talk to her about this sooner rather than later."

"I will," Christian agreed. "As soon as she's strong enough, I'll tell her everything."

"And I want you to realise that it's not your job to right Elena's wrongs," John added, returning his eyes to Christian. "You were her victim. You weren't an accomplice."

"I'm not trying to right her wrongs," Christian said. "I'm trying to put an end to this nightmare. Once and for all."

"Please be careful."

Christian studied John's face, taking in the sincere and worried look stretching over his features.

"You could open up a huge can of worms," John reminded him. "And not just for these other victims, but for you too. This could trigger you."

"I've been okay recently."

"You have," John agreed. He was actually proud of this detail. He had never seen Christian so stable and content. "But the mind works in strange ways. Anything – no matter how big or small – could trigger something in you. The last thing I want is for you to have a major setback."

"I've got you," Christian shrugged his shoulders. "I know you'll always be here to help me, if I start to crumble again."

"Always," John nodded, smiling. "Day or night. I'll be there."

"Thank you. I know I haven't been the easiest patient over the years," Christian snorted.

"I can't condone what you're planning to do," John said again. "But if you need my help, I'll do whatever I can. If you want me to talk to these men, I will. Free of charge."

"I'd pay you on their behalf," Christian shook his head.

"And I'd tell you where to stick the check," John smirked.

Christian bowed his head as a smile returned to his lips.

For the last year John had refused Christian's fees, no longer wanting to make money from his troubles. Christian had become more of a friend recently, so it didn't seem appropriate to charge him anymore. John didn't need the money, J & R was doing well enough without it. Christian had been difficult when John first said he didn't want the money, but he eventually conceded when John suggested that he instead donate the fees to Coping Together.

It was this agreement that had prompted Grace and Carrick to make Christian an ambassador for the charity. His donations alone had helped more than 50 young families affected by alcoholism and drug use.

"I'm preparing myself for the possibility that I might never find them," Christian revealed. "But I have to at least try. If they don't need my help, I'll let them get on with their lives. The last thing I want to do is upset anyone."

"Keep me updated on your progress."

"I will."

"I'm glad you've got support from Elliot and Kate," John smiled again. "You shouldn't have to tackle this alone."

"Elliot has been great," Christian nodded. "We're closer than ever before. Kate too."

"Do they know the full extent of what happened between you and Elena?"

"I've told them both," he confirmed. "Elliot knows more than Kate, for obvious reasons."

Before John could ask anything more, he was silenced by his wife's voice blaring over the sound of the kids playing.

Christian bolted upright as Rhian and Ana came into the lounge. His eyes widened, quickly trying to assess Ana's mood. His stomach tensed, only relaxing when she gave him a soft smile.

John slowly passed the notebook back to Christian, who in turn shoved it deep into his pocket and jumped to his feet. Ana had already seen him with it once before.

 _I need to hide this thing_ , Christian thought to himself. _If she sees it again, she'll start asking questions._

He wanted to take Ana home and wrap himself around her, tell her just how much he loved her. Take her mind of everything, if only for five minutes.

Christian was in the middle of saying goodbye to Rhian when the smallest Flynn shuffled in front of him, angling her head back so she could stare at him. He remembered Rhian being pregnant with Harriet, could still remember how small she was when she was first born. He shared a goodbye with the little girl, promising that he would see her again soon.

It was safe to say that Harriet Flynn had stolen a small piece of Christian's heart from the moment they had met. Just as Mia had done.

Christian led Ana out of the house, holding her tight as they walked towards his car parked on the drive. With every step he was planning their night.

 _I'll order takeout. Pizza. She loves pizza._

 _Should I open a bottle of champagne? We're not celebrating but it might help her unwind._

 _Fuck it. I'll open the Bollinger._

 _We'll take a bath._

 _Yes. A hot bath. I love it when she lays against my chest. I love playing with her hair._

 _Then we'll lay down in front of the TV again. I enjoyed that the other night. She liked it too._

 _I wonder if I'll be able to convince her to give the home renovation shows a miss? That show she picked was fucking dreadful._

 _But if she likes it, I'll watch it with her._

 _I'll watch fucking paint dry if it makes her happy._

"You're not going to your parents' for dinner?"

Christian jerked his head to the side, the both of them now safely in the car.

He didn't know how she knew about that. Grace had summoned them to Bellevue for dinner earlier in the day, but he had been adamant that they couldn't make it. He told his mother that Ana wasn't up for it. That she'd be too tired after a long day at work.

He didn't like using Ana as an excuse, but how could he tell Grace that the real reason he didn't want to go to dinner was because he couldn't handle another round of the Spanish Inquisition?

Grace had been trying to get the truth out of Christian ever since the fire. She knew something dark and sinister had unfolded in the club, but she also knew that there was something even worse lurking in his relationship to Elena. Grace needed answers and she wasn't going to rest until she had them.

 _I can't sit through dinner with her staring at me, waiting to ask more questions. I can't keep dodging her..._

 _I know she is worried but I'm not ready to talk about that part of my life._

 _How can I ever tell her what happened?_

 _Sorry Mom but your friend, the one who said she was helping me? Yeah, she was actually fucking me and beating me senseless every weekend you sent me over to her house. She fucked with my head for years and then tried to murder the one person I've ever loved… Can you pass the salt?_

Christian shook his head and tried to convince Ana that it wasn't a good idea. That his plans for a cosy night in were better.

But his beautiful, determined Ana had made up her mind.

"It'd be nice to spend some time with your family," she nodded. "I think it'll help me unwind from my session."

 _How can I say no to her?_

Christian licked his lips and slowly nodded his head, resigning himself to an unbearable night of trying to dodge Grace's questions and pestering.

As he agreed to take them to Bellevue, he saw a smile spread high across Ana's face. She relaxed upon hearing that she too had been invited to dinner, that she was a part of the family now. Christian thought she already knew that, his family adored her almost as much as he did.

Seeing her smile, seeing the tension slipping off her shoulders, was enough for Christian.

 _Keep smiling, baby. Whatever happens, keep smiling._


	8. Chapter Seven

**A/N: Hello my lovelies! I hope you're all doing well and have had a great week. Big thanks for the response to the last chapter. I'm really glad you seem to like the inclusion of Christian's POV. Just to be absolutely clear, any chapter that doesn't have a character's name at the top will be in Ana's POV. I'll always label other characters' perspectives.**

 **I hope you have a great weekend and you enjoy this chapter. More coming soon!**

 **Much Love,**

 **Chelsea x**

* * *

 **Reds77** \- Thank you! I'm really glad you liked the last update. I agree with John too. I hope Christian is careful and doesn't end up making a huge mistake. I hope you like this chapter! Much Love x

 **SuzB** \- Thank you! It's definitely a difficult situation for Christian to find himself in. On the one hand he wants to confide in Ana, on the other he wants to protect her at all costs. Hopefully he'll work something out, sooner rather than later! I hope you like this chapter! Much Love x

* * *

The Grey family home was just the place I needed to be following my session with Rhian. As soon as I crossed the divide and entered the house, I felt myself relax. The weight that had been pushing down on my chest disappeared, granting me a small break from the thoughts constantly swimming through my mind.

I loved spending time with Christian's family. They always made me feel welcome and put me at ease in their presence. They had no airs or graces, they were like any normal family.

"My darlings, I'm so glad you could make it!"

Grace swarmed us as soon as we let ourselves in. She reached me first, throwing her slender arms around my shoulders and pulling me into a tight embrace. Her willowy frame cocooned me in an instant, her rose-scented perfume filling my nose and making me smile.

"Thank you for inviting us over," I said to her.

I looked over my shoulder to Christian. He had hung back, taking his time in stashing our jackets in the coat closet. Grace waited patiently, a sweet smile covering her mouth.

"Christian –" she sang, opening her arms to him. "I didn't think you were coming. You said you were too busy."

He stepped into her hug, bending to accommodate her short stature.

"Well, we're here now," he replied, kissing her cheek. "Are Mia and Elliot already here?"

"Yes," Grace hummed. "Elliot's just helping Mia with some shelves in her closet. They should be down in a few minutes."

Christian didn't seem thrilled by her answer.

Grace turned on her heel and began escorting us through to the reception room. I stuck close to Christian's side, slipping my hand into his.

Had he really been looking forward to a night alone, just the two of us? Is that why he's annoyed? I could tell by the way he was gripping the wheel on the drive here that he wasn't exactly looking forward to dinner.

We entered the reception room and were met with Carrick, who was busy popping open a bottle of champagne. He cracked a wide grin at the sight of us, abandoning his bottle to come over for a hug. The Greys were a very tactile family. It's no wonder Christian felt like the odd one out for years.

I took a seat on the smaller of the three couches, Carrick joining me and keeping me occupied with small talk. He asked about SIP and how I was finding it there. His eyes were full of genuine intrigue. He was hanging off my every word. If there was one thing anyone could say about Carrick, it was that he was a lover of stories. He asked plenty of questions and looked forward to hearing answers. He was like a sponge, absorbing my chit-chat and never once looking bored. I smiled, noting how Christian is so much like his father. I could talk to him about paper clips and he would never let his attention slip from me.

My gaze drifted across the room to where Christian was hovering. He was leaning against the fireplace, his elbow on the mantel, a glass of champagne half-empty in his hand.

There were many times I wished I could jump inside his head, now more so than ever. I wanted to know what was troubling my beautiful man.

Grace moved towards him, her brows low around her eyes and her lips moving fast as she spoke to him. Christian's eyes barely flickered up from his glass, his hand swirling the golden liquid around the flute.

"Christian, you can't shut me out forever, you know –" I heard Grace say in a hushed voice.

"I'm not shutting you out," he retorted with a shake of his head. Grace raised her brow and I saw his shoulders drop forward. "I've already told you, I'll explain everything when I'm ready."

"And when exactly will that be?" she pressed. "Tomorrow, next week, in a year?"

"I don't know," Christian sighed. "But now isn't the right time."

"There will never be a right time," Grace threw her arms out to the side. Although Christian towered over her, she appeared tall and defiant standing before him. "I have been patient and I have never once pressured you to talk to me. Never. But this is different, Christian. I need to know what happened. I need to understand why she did those things."

"Mom –"

"The longer you're making me wait, the more worried I'm becoming!"

Her voice cut through the room, slicing through Carrick who had been cheerfully relaying his day to me. Carrick quickly fell silent, the air turning thick around us.

"You don't need to worry," Christian tried to assure her. He straightened himself up, reeling his shoulders back. "Whatever happened, it's in the past now. It's over."

"It's not over for me," Grace shook her head. She took a step back from him, her hand lifting to her cheek. I thought for a second that she might burst into tears. "I thought we had no secrets."

"You know there are things I can't talk to you about."

"About your childhood, yes," she nodded. "But everything that's happened since you joined this family, no. You're my son. You're supposed to confide in me. It is tearing me apart, not knowing why that woman tried to hurt you."

"She's dead –"

"I need to know why she tried to hurt my children," Grace interrupted him. Her eyes quickly met with mine. "Because the both of you mean the world to me. There's a reason Elena did all those things and I have a right to know what it is."

"And I have a right to some privacy. I don't have to tell you _every_ detail about my life," Christian shot back. Grace snapped her head to him, her lips parting in surprise at his outburst. "I've told you, I will explain it in my own time. I just need some time to get my head straight before I start digging all that shit up again, okay? Is that too much to ask?"

Grace hesitated, too stunned to move, before she found her feet and rushed from the room.

Christian stepped forward but couldn't bring himself to follow her. He remained rooted to the spot, his jaw clenching so hard I thought he might crack his teeth.

He slammed his glass down onto the mantelpiece and pushed his hands back through his hair, tugging hard on the ends.

"Excuse me –" Carrick whispered, gently placing his hand on my shoulder as he rose to his feet.

He walked across the room, passing Christian and giving him a silent look. I couldn't see his face but I knew that he hadn't smiled at his son or offered any reassurance.

I waited until Carrick left the room before I made my way to Christian. He had his eyes closed, his head hanging forward.

"We can leave if you want," I mumbled. I pushed my arms around his waist and pulled him forward, into my chest.

It took him forever to lower his hands from his hair and hold me.

"If you didn't want to come here, you should have told me," I said. He opened his eyes and stared down at me. "I'm sorry for making you come here –"

"No, it's fine," he sighed.

"You're not fine," I shook my head.

"She won't let it drop," he huffed, flinging a glance to the doorway. "Every time I see her, she pounces on me. It doesn't matter how many times I tell her I'm not ready to open that can of worms, she won't let it go."

"She's your mother," I told him. "It comes from a good place. She loves you."

"And I love her too," he grumbled. "That's why it's hard for me to even contemplate telling her why that bitch tried to destroy us."

I squeezed him as tight as I could, hoping he would gain some comfort from my embrace.

"It'll kill her," he breathed. "It'll tear this family apart. I can see it happening."

"Are you scared of how they'll react?" I frowned. He slowly nodded. "Christian, they won't get mad at you. They're not going to be angry with you."

"They'll get angry at themselves," he said. " _That's_ what I'm scared of. I'm scared that when I tell them, they'll start looking at me differently."

"But you know they will. You can't help but see someone in a different light when you find out something of that magnitude," I told him. "But they'll look at you the way I look at you. With admiration for how brave you've been."

"Brave," he snorted, shaking his head.

"You are brave," I protested. "And you're strong and powerful and you have the biggest heart in the world. Your family know that about you. They love you and they will continue to love you no matter what."

"How can you be so sure?" he grimaced. His eyes were welling with sadness. It made my heart twist. "How can you be sure that they won't look at me in disgust?"

"Because you were a child who was sucked in by a monster," I said. "You didn't ask for what happened to you. Nobody asks to be preyed on. Nobody asks to be abused."

He let out a hard breath and nodded, looking briefly like he had accepted my comments.

I ran my hands up his back.

"We can go home if you want," I repeated. "I'll tell Grace I'm not feeling well."

"You wanted to come here," he sighed.

"Not at your expense," I shook my head.

"It'll be fine." He gave me a quick smile, but it didn't reach his eyes. "We're staying."

"Christian –"

"It's fine," he cut me off. He rolled his shoulder into a shrug. "I'm sure Elliot and Mia will help to keep Grace at bay."

"I thought Elliot was going to help you talk to your parents about _you know who_?"

"He is," he nodded. "He said he'll support me, he even offered to tell them on my behalf if I can't do it. He keeps telling me to just rip off the band-aid."

"It's not always that easy though, is it?"

He sighed. "Sometimes it's easier to leave the band-aid on and try to forget that the wound is even there."

"Are you okay?"

"Right now or in general?"

"Both?"

"Not so good right in this moment," he shook his head. "But otherwise I'm great. I have you in my life and that's the most important thing to me. I can get through anything as long as I've got you."

He dipped forward and pressed his lips to my forehead before peeling himself away from me and heading out of the room.

* * *

Thankfully, Christian's hope that his siblings would keep Grace occupied through dinner came to fruition. As soon as the pair joined us the mood in the room shifted, easing up considerably. They kept the conversation flowing, discussions flipping between work, society gossip and a light-hearted trip down memory lane, details about their childhood slipping through.

But Christian hadn't completely relaxed. It pained me, knowing he was uncomfortable and on edge. He sat beside me at the dining table, in the chair furthest away from Grace. He fed small comments into the conversation but mostly remained silent. I could see his walls rebuilding with every passing minute.

I caught Grace's attention a couple of times throughout the meal, her gaze flickering between me and Christian. I could practically see her mind running at a million miles an hour, desperately trying to work out the truth from the scraps of information she already knew.

I understood why Christian wasn't ready to talk to his family. How do you prepare yourself for dropping that bombshell on the people you love? When you have spent a lifetime hiding in the shadows, keeping your secrets close to your chest, it must difficult to suddenly unload your burdens and share your inner most thoughts and feelings. It must be terrifying to let people in and open yourself up to possible ridicule.

But it was somewhat reassuring to know that he _wanted_ to confide in them, that he knew he needed to tell them, if only on his terms. For Christian, that is a huge step.

As dinner came to a close, Elliot kept the chatter alive, talking about his busy day at work. He talked passionately about the cars that had passed through his repair-shop.

"So how's the new R8, bro?" he asked, shooting a glance to Christian.

"Great," Christian hummed. "I should have upgraded a long time ago."

"I bet she's a dream to drive."

"Why are cars always called 'she' or 'her'?" Mia asked, frowning from her seat beside Elliot.

"I think it's because us men rely on cars in the same way we rely on women," Carrick explained, smiling sweetly at his daughter. "Without you, we are nothing. Our lives would be so much more difficult if we didn't have you in it. You make our lives easier, more enjoyable, more luxurious."

"I'd hazard a guess the reason is actually because women used to be treated like commodities by men anyway," Grace piped up. "Just another object for their use."

"Well, I like to believe it's because women are reliable and trustworthy and need to be treated with only the utmost respect," Carrick said, smiling at his wife. He reached across and curled his hand around hers. "If only all men treated women with the level of respect they give their cars – the same degree of respect I show you, my dear. The world would be a far better place to live in if that were the case."

Grace returned her husband's smile, breaking with the serious expression she had been wearing all evening.

"Don't worry, Dad, we're setting a good example," Elliot winked, waving his hand between him and Christian. "True gentlemen, just as you've raised us to be."

"I'm glad to hear it," Carrick grinned. He took a sip from his wine glass. "Elliot, have you done any more work on Ana's old car?"

My ears pricked up, my head raising with intrigue.

"What?" I narrowed my eyes, twisting my head towards Elliot. "You've been working on my car?"

Elliot licked his lips, his gaze darting around for a moment.

"Um, well, it's been sat in my yard for months," he replied defensively, lifting his shoulders up around his ears. "It seemed a waste, it just sitting there, so I started playing around with it. I managed to pull out all of the dents and repair the bumper."

"You've never mentioned this before," I frowned. I glanced at Christian and he shook his head, showing that he was none the wiser.

"I didn't know how you'd feel about it," Elliot shrugged. "Christian told me how cut up you were when it was totalled. I didn't want to upset you… I was waiting for you to tell me what you wanted doing with it."

"Have you fixed the car?"

"She's drivable," he nodded. The way his eyes glistened told me he was proud of whatever he had done to Wanda. "I took her out for a test drive the other day and she's as good as new. I had to do a complete recolour though. The red paint wouldn't budge and I had to replace the windscreen because it was stuck fast. I've kept the car blue, but she's more of a inky colour now. A lot darker."

My chest tightened as I thought of Wanda being anything other than pastel blue. It just didn't seem right. But I was glad Elliot had fixed her. The damage caused by the junkie Detective Wright hired was extensive. I didn't think there was any hope left for Wanda after that.

"I can drop her off at your apartment, if you want?" Elliot offered.

I hesitated.

"I don't know if that's a good idea," Christian grunted.

I slowly shook my head.

"No," I muttered. "It's time to move on. I don't want her back."

I felt Christian's hand creep across my thigh, working its way to my knee.

"I need to start over with something new," I added. "I couldn't drive it again. Not after everything that's happened."

"That's fine," Elliot smiled, nodding his head. "What do you want me to do with the car? I can put it up for auction, if you're set on never taking it back?"

"You think you can sell it?"

He grinned. "There's a vintage car auction taking place in a couple weeks. I know there's a lot of interest in Beetles. I could get a good price, even with all the repair work and the new paint job."

"Wow," I blew out my cheeks. "If you think you can sell the car, go ahead. I'd like Wanda to go to a good home."

"Wanda?" Elliot frowned, jerking his head to the side. "You named your car Wanda?"

"Yeah," I nodded, unashamedly. "You don't name your cars?"

"Oh he names them," Christian smirked. Elliot scowled at him. "Your Jeep is called Miranda, right?"

"Bro –"

"And the truck is Samantha? Or was it Carrie?"

"Seriously!" Elliot huffed, shaking his head.

Laughter broke out around the table.

"Elliot's obsessed with Sex and the City," Christian told me, leaning into my ear. "He's watched every episode at least three times."

"That was meant to be our secret!" Elliot sighed. His stern expression was fixed in place for a few seconds before even he cracked a smile. "Okay, fine, I like the show. But I am not obsessed!"

"Sure, keep telling yourself that," Christian chuckled.

"It's no wonder you and Kate hit it off," I smiled. "That's one of her favourite shows too."

Elliot's gaze instantly dropped to the table, yet his smile stretched a little higher across his face. I wondered briefly if I had said the wrong thing but he didn't seem uncomfortable hearing her name, not like Kate does whenever he's mentioned.

"I'll list the car for auction," he said, shifting the conversation away from his brief love affair with my best friend. He raised his eyes to mine again and nodded. "You'll get every penny from the sale. I fixed her up for fun, not profit. You should get enough money to cover the cost of a new car."

"Thanks," I smiled. I didn't correct him by saying that Christian would be paying for my new car, not me.

"Have you already started looking for a new car?" Carrick asked.

"Not yet," I shook my head. "I'm not really sure what I want."

"You should totally get a Mini Cooper like me!" Mia bubbled in her seat, her chocolate eyes lighting up. "We can have matching cars!"

Elliot let out a loud snort, earning himself a swipe from Mia. He rubbed his arm and chuckled to himself.

"I'm not sure Ana – or anyone for that matter – wants a car the colour of fucking Big Bird!"

"Language!" Carrick and Grace said in unison, each eyeballing their eldest son.

Elliot rolled his lips together, trying to stifle his laugh.

"I'll have you know, yellow is the must-have colour for this season," Mia huffed, crossing her arms in annoyance.

"Your car isn't just yellow, though," Christian frowned at his sister. "It's radioactive. You could see that thing from space."

"It's canary yellow," she corrected him, sounding out the words carefully.

"Calling it that doesn't make it any less ridiculous," he shot back.

"I'm not sure a Mini is really my style," I interjected, giving Mia a reassuring smile. "But if I change my mind, I'll be sure to pick your brains about them."

That seemed to settle her mood, her expression softening a little.

The table was silent for a few minutes before Mia changed the subject. She ran her fingers through the short ends of her black hair.

"I'm thinking about getting hair extensions," she revealed.

"What?" The three man shot her a confused look, each of their right brows hitching up their foreheads.

"I'm bored of having short hair," she replied. "I can't do anything with it."

"Can't you just grow your hair out like a normal person?" Christian asked. He shook his head. "Why would you pay to have somebody else's hair superglued to your head?"

"It doesn't get superglued to your head, you idiot!" Mia rolled her eyes. "And anyway, not everyone is lucky enough to have hair that grows at lightning speed like you do. You get your hair cut and five minutes later it's sticking in your eyes again. I mean, look how long it is now!"

I lifted my chin towards Christian and realised for the first time just how long his hair had gotten.

He quickly pushed his hair off his forehead, the dishevelled curls fighting back and falling down against his temples again. I reached across and slipped my fingers through the hairs at the back of his neck. It was several inches too long, covering his nape in the space it was usually closely cropped.

Christian turned his head to me, but his eyes sought out Grace.

"You do need a trim," Grace told him.

He nodded his head.

"Looks like I'll have to make an appointment with my stylist then," he replied. He picked up his wine glass and took a sip. "If my mom says I need a haircut, I better get it cut."

"I just want my boy to look his best," Grace muttered, her pink lips peeling back into a relaxed smile.

* * *

As the Greys' housekeeper cleared our plates, Mia dragged me away to her closet to inspect the shelves Elliot had installed earlier. I didn't relish leaving Christian on his own but he shooed me away with a smile.

Mia's closet wasn't exactly how I imagined it to be. It wasn't actually in her bedroom at all, but instead the room next to hers. She proudly announced that it used to be a guest room until she commandeered it when she was fourteen.

Each of the four walls were covered in shelves and railings, not a single space unused. The entire length of one wall was dedicated to shoes. She had a shoe for every occasion, in every colour.

We really were two different people. Mia had shoes on display, I had books.

"This is the section I had Elliot rework for me," Mia said, directing me over to the left corner of the room. She grinned from ear to ear as she ran her hand across the dress bags hanging up. "This is going to be the Ana section."

"The what?"

"Well, you said you hate clothes shopping," she sang, her dark eyes sparkling with enthusiasm. "I love shopping, so I figured it made sense for me to pick out some stuff for you to try on. You don't have to keep all of it or any of it, I can return whatever you don't want."

"Mia, this is…" I shook my head, unsure of what to say.

"I know what size you are and I know what colours will look great on you," she continued. "And I have a good idea of what style you naturally gravitate towards. I was out shopping the other day and I came across some stuff I thought you'd like. I was going to take pictures to send to you, but I just bought them instead."

"You didn't have to do this."

"I know," she nodded. "But I wanted to. I've never had someone to do this stuff with. Growing up with two brothers wasn't easy, I'll tell you. I've always wanted a sister."

A warm sensation spread through me, sending a flutter through my core. I stepped forward and pushed my arms around her. Mia truly had a heart of gold. With a sprinkle of glitter in there too…

"Just take whatever you want home with you, try it on and let me know if you want to keep it," she told me.

"I'll repay you for anything I keep," I promised her.

"You don't have to worry about that," she said with a smirk, waving her hand. She leaned in closer and whispered, "Christian pays for my credit card bills. He lets me buy whatever I want and he just pays it off for me."

"He does?"

"It saves him having to buy me birthday and Christmas presents. I just buy my own stuff and that way I end up with something I actually like!" She turned on the spot and began lowering some of the bags from the rail, draping them over her arm. "He won't mind that I'm buying you clothes. I think he actually liked it when I got you those items before all of that stuff happened with the club. He said it was very thoughtful of me."

She seemed proud of that, the apples of her cheeks bunching and glowing pink. Like most people, she accepted Christian's praise with open arms, knowing how reserved he can be with his feelings.

"I'll take everything downstairs for you," Mia said. "You'll fit it in the trunk of Christian's car, no problem."

"Thank you for this," I smiled. "I really appreciate it. It's very generous of you."

"You're dating my brother," she grinned. "That makes you family."

"Do you say that to the girls Elliot's dated too?"

"God no!" she snorted. "But Christian's different. He's mad about you. I've only ever seen the same look he gives you in movies. He'd walk on water for you."

"He ran into a burning building for me," I reminded her.

"If that doesn't scream that you're meant to be together, I don't know what does," she giggled. "Go find him. I'll be down in a minute or two."

"You don't want a hand carrying this?"

"No, I'm fine," she shook her head. "Go find my brother and give him a hug. He's been pretty miserable tonight. I think he could use some attention."

I thanked her again and headed out of her closet and down the hallway. I descended the stairs and quickly made my way back to the reception room, expecting to find Christian waiting for me in there.

But I was surprised to find only his father and brother. They were sat on the couch, hunched forward as they watched television, the volume low and almost inaudible.

"Everything okay, darling?" Carrick asked, spotting me in the corner of his eye. He gave me a reassuring smile, pointing to the TV. "We're just catching up on the highlights from tonight's game. Grace doesn't know…"

"Your secret's safe with me," I nodded. "I'm looking for Christian, do you know where he is?"

"In the kitchen," he said. "He's with Grace."

The hairs at the back of my neck rose to attention, a prickled heat working its way down my spine.

My heart burned at the thought of Christian being cornered by his mother. The more he's pushed, the more Christian pulls away…

I excused myself and wandered the hall, trying to find the kitchen. It wasn't a room I had actually seen yet, but I eventually came across it at the back of the house. I followed the sound of muffled voices until they grew louder, hiding behind a pair of mahogany doors. I peeked my head through the small gap.

The kitchen was made up of chrome and white marble, a vast space occupied predominately by an oval shaped counter in the centre of the room. A chandelier hung above the island counter, dripping diamond-like tears from the ceiling.

I couldn't see either of them from where I was, but their voices were loud and clear.

"Have you met with Gia yet?" Grace asked.

"Not yet," Christian replied gruffly. "She's busy."

"With work or her latest conquest?"

"I didn't ask," he said. I could hear a hint of a smile in his tone. "You still don't like her then?"

Grace sighed. "She isn't good enough for Elliot. They're a bad match. I've always thought that… Now Kate, Ana's friend? I really liked her."

"She works for me now," Christian told her. "It was Kate who wrote up the article on me, after the fire."

"It was?" Grace gasped. "Well I never… I had no idea it was the same girl."

"She's nice," he said. "Elliot could do a lot worse."

"He already has," Grace chuckled. "Just make sure when you meet with Gia that you put her in her place. Don't let her takeover the designs... Have you and Ana thought about what you want for the apartment?"

"Not really," he hummed. "I don't even know where to start. Mom, you know where I stand on decorating. I let Gia takeover before because I didn't care as long as everything was clean, minimal and free of clutter."

"If neither of you know where to begin, do what me and your father did when we moved in here," she offered. "Start small. Don't even think about wallpaper or flooring or bigger furnishings yet. Start with cushions, picture frames, that sort of thing. Find little things you like and then the rest will fall into place. You'll realise the kind of colours you like. Your father and I started with rugs, if I remember correctly."

Christian snorted.

"I don't mean to be disrespectful but that is a load of crap! Dad did not have a say in anything about this house. He let you decide everything!"

"That's because he trusts my taste," Grace replied. She broke into a quiet laugh. "I love your father with all my heart, but he has awful taste in clothing and homeware. Don't you remember that hideous green chair he bought for his study?"

"Oh god," Christian laughed. "I remember Elliot racing it up and down the hallway. He almost broke his neck when he slammed head-first into the wall."

"I'm pretty sure there's still a dent in that wall, even now!"

Their laughter drew me into the room. I pushed the door open and slipped in through the gap.

My step faltered as I finally found them.

They were positioned at the far end of the room, at the small dining table near the patio doors. Christian was sat on one of the cream chairs, Grace shuffling behind him. His hair was damp and flat against his head, a white towel draped over his shoulders. Grace's left hand worked its way through his hair, a pair of scissors and a comb in her right.

I cleared my throat to alert them of my arrival, both of them shooting a glance in my direction.

"You were able to make an appointment with your stylist then?" I grinned.

The corners of Grace's eyes creased as she smiled at me.

"I've been cutting his hair since he was six years old," she told me. She jerked her head to the side, beckoning me over to them.

"It was the only time I would let you touch me," Christian added quietly, shuffling his feet against the tiled floor.

"Your hair was the exception to the rule," Grace nodded. She rested her left hand on his shoulder, giving it a gentle rub. "I would spend the whole night playing with your hair, making the most of being able to touch you."

"I used to like it when you washed my hair," he hummed.

"I always waited for you to ask me to cut your hair," Grace said. "I let you make the first move… It was usually when your fringe started getting in your eyes. You used to come to me and say 'Mommy, the hair is stinging my eyes'."

Still smiling, I moved forward and pulled out the chair in front of Christian. I sat down and watched as Grace ran the comb through his hair and started trimming the ends.

"Even when he was a teenager, when he went to college, when he moved into his own place," Grace mused. "He always came to me for a haircut. It's always been our thing, hasn't it?"

"I don't trust anyone else to come this close to me with a pair of scissors," Christian quipped. He looked up to the ceiling. "At least I know you've got a steady hand. I can count on you not to chop off my ear or stab me in the eye!"

Christian dropped his gaze to me, his eyes roaming my face for a few seconds.

"You're trying not to laugh, aren't you?" he asked me.

"No," I shook my head.

"You must think this is ridiculous," he pursed his lips. "I'm almost thirty and my mom still cuts my hair."

"It's cute," I told him.

"See!" Grace bumped the back of his shoulder with her arm. "I told you it's not weird."

"It is weird," he grunted.

"It's sweet," I corrected him.

I extended my hand to him, which he gladly took. He linked our fingers, rubbing his against mine. His expression started to soften.

I wondered if he truly felt embarrassed by this revelation or whether he felt uncomfortable at the mention of him not liking to be touched when he was younger. It was hard to tell with him, in so many ways he still kept his cards close to his chest. I knew from personal experience that he had a tendency to cage up when his childhood was discussed. Less so these days, but sometimes old habits die hard.

"I'll have to teach you how to trim his hair," Grace raised her eyes to me. "He has very particular tastes and someone will have to take over when I'm too old or completely riddled with arthritis and unable to hold the scissors."

"Actually, I'm pretty good with a pair of scissors," I told her, an oddly proud smile working its way over my lips. "I've been cutting my dad's hair since I was twelve. Not because he is fussy or anything, it's just because he hates paying someone to cut it for him."

"Sounds like Carrick," Grace giggled.

Christian arched his brow at me, frowning hard.

"What?"

"You cut your father's hair?"

"Yeah," I nodded.

"Well, in that case, I am never letting you near my hair," he blew out in a long breath.

"Hey!" I squeaked. "Don't say that. Ray's hair looks perfectly fine!"

"I agree, it does," he nodded. "But there is no way in hell I want to end up looking like my future father-in-law."

As the words left his mouth, an audible gasp cut through the air. I wasn't sure if the sound came from my lips or Grace's.

Christian closed his eyes and slowly ran his tongue along his lower lip. He cleared his throat and shifted on his chair, squaring up his shoulders.

I looked up at Grace and found her grinning wildly at me, her eyes sparkling with excitement.

 _He called Ray his future father-in-law_ , the voice in the back of my head buzzed at me. _He meant it. He bloody meant it! For Ray to become his in-law, that means he has to marry you…_

I tried to shut down that thought. I didn't want to fall into that rabbit hole. It's too soon. Neither of us knows what the future holds.

 _I do. It involves you in a big white dress and a ring on your finger!_

Christian's cheeks began to flare red and it took him forever to open his eyes again and look at me.

I gave him a soft smile and nodded my head. I slipped my fingers out from between his and turned his palm over. I traced the letters ILY in the centre of his hand.

"I love you too," he mouthed to me. His blush spread across his entire face, even pinking up the base of his throat.

His reaction didn't scream embarrassment, but rather a man who had simply said too much.


	9. Chapter Eight

**A/N: Hello Lovelies! I hope you've all had a great weekend.**

 **As always, I hope you enjoy this chapter. More coming soon!**

 **Much Love,**

 **Chelsea x**

* * *

 **DoloresDeeHowe** – Thank you! I'm really glad you liked it. I hope you enjoy this chapter too. Much Love x

 **Reds77** – Thank you! I loved that he let that slip too. It's nice to see that he's thinking long-term where Ana is concerned. Ah yes, I imagine all of us will need tissues when he finally tells them the truth about Elena! I hope you like this chapter! Much Love x

 **Tillie** – Thank you! I'm glad you're enjoying it. Much Love x

 **Susan** – Thank you! I hope you like this chapter! Much Love x

 **LavendarJade** – Thank you! Ana's recovery is going to be a long one but I'm optimistic that she will get over this. Much Love x

 **SuzB** – Thank you! I agree! I think Christian needs to bite the bullet but he can only do it when he knows he's strong enough to handle whatever fall out there may be. Hopefully in time he'll find the strength to reveal all! Much Love x

* * *

Saturday mornings had become mine and Christian's designated lazy time. We didn't have a routine, we never made plans. After a week of waking up early, we granted ourselves a late start to the day. We turned off the alarms and kept the blinds closed, only waking up when our bodies were ready.

Christian was sprawled over me, his cheek flat against my chest, his legs tangled with my own. I woke before him, taking advantage of a few minutes of watching him sleep. It lasted just a moment before he raised his head and smiled up at me, but it was enough to start my day on a positive note.

We rolled out of bed and straight into the shower. We took it in turns to scrub each other down, Christian taking extra care in shampooing and conditioning my hair. I craved the feel of his fingers pressing deep into my scalp, my neck, my hips, the lightest touch sending a shiver over my skin.

A small groan escaped my lips, the sound pleasing Christian immensely. But it wasn't enough to jump him into action.

I ran my hand down his stomach but he caught my fingers before they reached his groin.

"You'll turn into a prune if we stay in here any longer," he smiled.

He planted a light kiss to my mouth and then switched off the water, stepping out of the shower to grab our towels. He wrapped me up and left the bathroom, escaping me and my wandering hands.

I followed him into our closet, my sodden feet shuffling against the carpets. Annoyingly, he was already half-dressed by the time I entered the room. He was over on his side, buttoning up his jeans.

"Christian?"

"Hm?" He lifted his chin towards me.

"Is everything okay?" I asked tentatively, almost wary of his reply.

"Yes, why?"

"It's just…"

I hesitated.

How do I even address this with him?

 _Why don't you let me touch you unless we're in bed? Why do you find excuses every time I want to be intimate anywhere outside our bedroom?_

Do I even want to open up that discussion?

"It's just, what?" he prompted. His brows started to droop around his eyes, his lips pressing together into a line.

I shook my head and sighed.

"After last night," I blurted. "With your mom. Is everything okay with you two now?"

He shrugged his shoulders.

"She apologised for bringing it up again," he said. "I reminded her that I will tell her when I'm ready. I don't know if she's accepted that but she'll have to. I have to do this at my pace."

I gave him a shy smile.

"I'll be right there with you, whenever you tell them," I promised. "That's if you want me there."

His lips cracked into a smile, the corners of his eyes creasing. He nodded his head and let the subject go. He picked up a black t-shirt from his drawer and pulled it over his head.

I dropped the towel from around my body and threw it into the laundry basket to my left. Hanging my head forward, I unravelled the smaller towel encasing my hair and rubbed it through the lengths of my tangled locks, trying to grab the excess water.

"So what's on the cards for today?" Christian asked, his voice muffled through the towel.

"Um… I don't know… What did you want to do?"

"Take you back to bed and keep you there until Monday morning?"

I flung my hair back and shot him a look. He was leaning against the chest of drawers behind him, his feet crossed at the ankles.

"I like it when you're wet and naked," he purred. His eyes trailed the length of my body. I could feel myself blushing under his scrutiny. "You should always be wet and naked."

"Only a few seconds ago you were worried I was going to end up like a prune," I reminded him.

He didn't respond to my comment.

He appeared deep in thought for the longest time, his eyes fixing on my navel. Feeling a shiver course over my skin, I reached for one of dress bags I brought home from Bellevue last night. Inside was a light-weight cotton dress, dusty pink, with a soft lace design around the neck and hem. I took it off the hanger and slipped into it. Mia got the sizing perfect, the dress hugging me in all the right places. It wasn't the type of dress that I could wear a bra underneath, so I would have to go au naturelle for today… Not that I've got much to contend with. I'm hardly carrying two watermelons on my chest!

"Maybe we could go out for the day?" I suggested. "Just you and me?"

"Spend some quality time together?" he hummed, a smirk developing over his mouth. I nodded. "I can certainly get on board with that."

"We could go shopping."

"Ugh," he grunted. "You have been spending too much time with my sister. I shouldn't have let her whisk you away from me last night."

I giggled at his disdain and slowly made my way over to him. I hovered in front of him, twiddling my fingers together.

"You hate shopping," he reminded me.

"I hate shopping for clothes," I returned. "But I overheard you and Grace talking. You told her about our plans to redecorate?"

"She asked how you had settled in here," he nodded. "I told her I wanted to make this place more homely. For the both of us."

"I liked her suggestion about us starting with smaller stuff," I said. "At least if we do that, we'll have something to show Gia whatever-her-name-is. We can get the ball rolling, so to speak."

"I guess," he slowly nodded.

I closed the gap between us and uncrossed his arms, looping them around my waist. I hung my own over his shoulders.

"We could do some shopping and then grab lunch," I suggested. "Play footsie under the table…"

"Hm…"

"We could catch a movie tonight," I continued. "Have a little fun in the dark…"

"With other people in the room?" he arched his brow.

I shrugged my shoulders. "It could make things interesting," I pouted. "The risk of being caught…"

He inhaled a deep breath, his chest rising and pressing against me as he peeled himself from the cabinet.

"Okay," he sighed. His hands splayed across the small of my spine. "Shopping, lunch and then a movie… But we're watching a movie here. I am not sitting in a theatre full of freaks and scumbags."

"Okay."

"And I'm choosing the movie," he added.

"Fine."

"And you will be completely naked."

"What?!"

"You heard me," he smirked. "You will be naked and you will sit on my lap for the duration of the movie."

My stomach started to clench in anticipation.

"And what will you be doing to me while I'm sitting in your lap?"

"Driving you crazy," he purred. "I'll have you begging me to take you to bed."

Bed.

 _Again_.

I let out a hard sigh but before I could even contemplate raising the subject with him, he leaned forward and smacked a kiss between my furrowed brows.

"I'll let you finish getting dressed," he said. He slipped his hands out from around my waist and side-stepped me. "I have to make a quick call before we leave."

"To who?"

"Kate," he replied. "I won't be long. It'll only take a couple of minutes."

"What do you need to talk to Kate about?"

"Work stuff," he hummed.

"Is it about that party she's planning?" I wondered. He stared me in the eye. "She mentioned that you're hosting a party for your employees. The Annual Grey Ball or something like that?"

"Yeah," he nodded his head and smiled back at me. "I just need to check something with her. Make sure everything is in order."

"On a Saturday?"

I didn't think Kate would appreciate the extra work on a weekend. She likes to curl up under her comforter and hide until Monday, catching up on lost sleep and whatever TV show she's obsessing over.

"No rest for the wicked," he mused. "It's a really important thing we're working on. I don't want anything to compromise it."

"Right…"

"I promise it won't take long," he told me. He held my gaze, his grey eyes softening in the corners. "I'll be two minutes, max. So hurry up and finish getting ready, because I'm looking forward to watching that movie later!"

He winked at me before retreating out of the closet.

I had an unsettled feeling spread through my stomach and I couldn't figure out why or what it was.

* * *

Christian's call to Kate was over in a flash and we left the apartment not long after, climbing into his R8. Taylor was close to hand but settled into one of the SUV's with Mrs Jones. I was relieved when I heard him telling Christian that they were going to do some shopping of their own. As much as I appreciated Taylor and all he does for both me and Christian, I was looking forward to an afternoon with my boyfriend. No chaperones. Just a normal couple shopping for their apartment.

We drove around for a little while, trying to decide which store to check out first. Christian wasn't overly keen with my suggestion but he quickly gave in and parked up outside. Macy's had been a lifesaver when I moved into Pike Place with Kate. I felt more at home with price-tags that didn't make my eyes water. Christian less so. He clearly had his sights set on more luxury, designer brands.

I locked hands with Christian as we moved through the store at a glacial pace. My chest swelled at his sweet gestures – letting me lead the way, his lips gently brushing against my temples every time we stopped to inspect an item, the way he tucked my hair behind my ears whenever it fell in front of my face. I loved how tactile he was being. I especially loved how unfazed he was by the other shoppers who stared at us. It was amazing how much had changed in such a short space of time. Five months ago we wouldn't have been seen within a mile of each other in public. Yet here we are, Christian proudly by my side and making sure everyone knew we were together.

Making sure everyone knew I belonged to him.

We sailed through the bedding and blankets, finding nothing of interest, and weaved our way towards the decorative pillows.

"Where would we even put these?" Christian hummed, his eyes darting between the shelves.

"On the couches," I shrugged. "On our bed. On the bed in the guest bedroom."

"So we're definitely turning the upstairs bedroom into a guest room?"

I turned my chin up to him and frowned. "What else would we do with it?"

"I wondered if you wanted to convert it into a closet," he said, pursing his lips in a sardonic manner. His eyes crinkled in the corners. "Maybe Mia will start rubbing off on you. I saw the amount of clothes she made us take home last night…"

I stuck my elbow out and playfully caught him in the stomach. He feigned injury but couldn't hold back a light chuckle.

"I don't need a closet," I assured him. "If I start running out of room, I'll just hang my stuff on your side."

"And where would my clothes go?"

"I guess you'd have to figure that one out," I smirked. I sprang up onto my toes and stole a kiss from his lips. "I'd like a guest room. Somewhere for Ray or Kate, if they ever want to stay over."

Ray had already christened the former sub bedroom when he came to stay with us after the fire. The room was fairly simple in design and completely unoffensive. Nobody would ever know who had previously slept in there. But I needed to wipe it clean of the women who came before me.

"Sounds good to me," Christian smiled.

I brushed past him and began examining the row of pillows lined up on the shelf in front of us. I was drawn to a geometric style in purple and silver.

"What about this one?"

I spun around and saw him holding up a large cushion. It was dual-coloured and striped.

"Why are you frowning?" Christian asked. "It's… _nice_."

"It's black and white," I shot back.

"And?"

"It's boring."

"It's a little simple, yes –"

"It's boring," I repeated. "Christian, the apartment is already so…"

"So what?"

"Colourless," I shrugged my shoulders. He fixed me with his stare, waiting for me to expand on my comment. "There's hardly any colour in the apartment and what little there is, is dark and dull. I'm not necessarily a fan of big and bold colours, but it'd be nice to add a splash of something interesting around the place."

"Right…"

"We need to brighten the apartment up," I told him. "It's kind of clinical at the moment."

He looked down at the pillow and then nodded his head. He placed it back on the shelf.

"We need colour," he muttered. He shifted his feet and clicked his tongue as he tried to find something else. "Colour."

"Don't look so nervous," I whispered to him, running my hand up his arm. "Break the habit of a lifetime and find something you actually like, not something you think will go with the décor we already have."

A smile worked its way along his lips.

"What about that one?" he blurted, jerking his head to the side as his gaze was caught by something blue. He stepped forward and pulled it from the shelf. "I like the colour of this."

I slid my fingers over the front of the cushion, the material soft under my touch. It was a rectangle shaped pillow and looked like a watercolour painting, blues and creams rolling into each other like waves. It had flecks of silver throughout, catching the light as he turned it this way and that.

"That's really nice," I grinned, nodding at him. "Keep hold of it. We're buying it."

He grinned back at me. He looked proud of himself for getting my seal of approval. I couldn't help but giggle at his expression.

I wandered along the aisle by myself, Christian taking care in picking his next option. I drifted across to the next row of shelves, my eyes fixing on something purple and pink.

He said no pink but maybe I can sneak in something softer, less Barbie and more rose-toned?

Wanting to know if I could persuade him with something fluffy and matching the dusty hue of my dress, I weaved back towards the spot I had left Christian in a few seconds ago.

My footsteps slowed as I heard him talking to someone.

Surely a store assistant hadn't grabbed him already? We had been lucky to avoid their attention thus far –

I edged forward and glanced down the aisle. Standing at Christian's side was a tall brunette with a playful smile across her red lips. She had her arms folded under her chest and was squeezing her cleavage up into her throat. Her silk blouse struggled against the strain, clinging to every inch of her torso, tucked perfectly into a knee-length skirt.

She definitely _wasn't_ a store assistant.

I gulped hard.

"I read about it in the newspaper," she said softly. She tilted her head to the side, her dark curls springing off her shoulder and falling down her back.

"A lot of people did," Christian huffed at her. His eyes were fixed ahead of him, as if he couldn't bear to look at her.

"You must have been annoyed."

"Why?" he shot back, shaking his head. He matched her stance and crossed his arms, shuffling back a step to put more space between them. "Why would I give a shit about that place?"

"I know you were her partner," she smiled. He jerked his head to her. "Don't look so surprised. She told me that you were invested in all her ventures, professional and otherwise."

"She was a compulsive liar," he retorted.

"You lost a pretty good business when Maîtrise went up in smoke," the woman replied. "Not that I'd ever been in there. I heard it was nice, though."

"It was a dump. Now, if you don't mind –"

He started to walk away but she held up her hand.

"Is it true?" she asked. "That she died in there?"

"Yes."

"Wow…" she blew out her plump lips, her eyes widening in surprise. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be," he shrugged. "I'm glad the bitch is dead."

She snapped her head back and frowned.

"I thought you and her were friends?"

"You thought wrong."

"Well, you were friends when she introduced us."

My stomach hardened, twisting into knots.

"That was a long time ago," he grunted. "A lot has changed since then."

"You've changed," she remarked. Her dark eyes trailed the length of his body. My fingers dug hard into the pillow I was holding. "You're looking great, actually."

"I really don't have time for this," Christian sighed, throwing his hand up in the air. "You shouldn't have come over here."

"I read the exposé you did in The Seattle Times," she blurted. She was desperate to keep his attention. "It was very interesting."

"Whatever –"

"I'm glad you've found someone permanent," she smiled sweetly.

Too sweet for my liking.

"I'm in a relationship," Christian snapped at her. His voice was hard and cutting.

I knew what he meant and I knew what she had implied.

It confirmed what I was dreading.

 _She's one of them._

"You're officially out of the game, then?" she sighed. She stepped forward onto her toes and tried to lower her voice. "It's a shame. You were the best I ever had."

Bile forced its way into my mouth.

Christian let out a heavy sigh and retreated another step. He reeled his shoulders back and scowled at her.

"Amber, you need to leave. _Now_."

"Aren't I allowed to say hello to an old friend?"

"We were never friends," he fired back. "You know the rules. You have no right coming up to me."

"I…" she faltered. She licked her lips nervously. "I just wanted to say hi. I've been thinking about you since I read all of that stuff in the papers. When I saw you I just –"

Her words stalled as her eyes darted down the aisle to me.

"Oh god…"

Her dark eyes held my gaze, the colour of Bourbon.

I slammed my eyes shut but her face still flashed in my mind.

 _Leila_.

My skin started to burn, too hot under my jacket.

I could feel my throat closing.

A cold sweat was building at my nape.

It's too hot.

 _No. No. No._

 _Not again._

The flames.

The smoke.

I dropped the pillow and slammed my hands against my chest.

My heart. Racing.

 _It hurts_ …

"Ana –"

I opened my eyes.

 _'You think you're so special…You mean nothing to him… You're just one in a long line of sluts he has fucked.'_

 _'I'm going to enjoy watching you burn.'_

"No…" I whimpered. "Leave me alone…"

 _Her_ voice pounded in my ears. I could feel her breath against my skin. Her fingers curling around my neck –

"Ana!"

My name snagged in Christian's throat. Fear cast a dark shadow over his face.

As he raced towards me, my body pulled me in the opposite direction.

I needed to get out.

I needed to run.

I couldn't catch my breath. I sucked in air but it wasn't enough. The walls were closing in. My lungs were gasping for release.

I turned on the spot and crashed into the shelves beside me, knocking the whole thing over, the contents spilling onto the ground separating me and Christian.

He shouted my name over and over. I heard him racing after me. I wanted him but I had to get out.

 _I can't breathe –_

 _She's going to kill me._

I barged past a couple hovering near the exit and crashed out onto the street.

I didn't know where I was going but I broke into a sprint, running as fast as my feet could take me.


	10. Chapter Nine

**A/N: Happy Saturday, my lovelies. I hope you're all having a great weekend so far.**

 **I really hope you enjoy this chapter. More coming soon!**

 **Much Love,**

 **Chelsea xx**

* * *

 **Lavendarjade** – Thank you! I hope you like this chapter too. Much Love x

 **Reds77** – Thank you! Ana's reaction was purely instinct. It was a fight or flight moment and she chose the latter. Thinking she was back in the club, she needed to run and get as far away from it as possible. Luckily, Christian will always be close to hand! I hope you like this chapter! Much Love x

 **Susan** – Thank you! I'm really glad you liked it. I hope you enjoy this one too. Much Love x

 **SuzB** – Thank you! Ana's in a very fragile place right now, which Christian seems to have realised all along. Luckily Ana does have Rhian on hand to rely on for additional support. She needs all the help she can get right now. I hope you enjoy this chapter! Much Love x

 **DoloresDeeHowe** – Thank you! Don't worry about Ana, she has Christian hot on her heels! Much Love x

 **Iamdbomangmail** – Thank you! I'm sure that in time Ana will be okay. Despite the way she feels right now, she is a tough cookie! Much Love x

* * *

Pain built in my chest as I stormed along the street, a fire raging from my throat to my stomach, burning with every sharp intake of breath.

"Ana!"

I reached the edge of the sidewalk and was about to step out when I felt Christian's hand curl around my wrist.

"Stop –"

His lips brushed my temple as he pulled me into his chest. I crashed against him, his arms enveloping me and holding me tight.

"I've got you," he promised, keeping his voice steady and low. He was breathing heavily, having chased after me for god knows how long. "I'm here."

"I c-can't…"

"I'm here," he repeated. He pressed a kiss against my forehead. "You're safe."

I sank into his arms, unable to hold up my own weight. My knees buckled as a tingling sensation spread through my hands and feet.

His grip tightened, keeping me upright and flush with his body.

"Let's get off the street," he muttered.

I let him guide me away from the edge of the sidewalk, the fight slipping away from me at rapid speed.

Christian walked me towards the nearest building and eased me through the entrance. My face remained buried in his chest until he lowered me into a chair and slowly backed away. I opened my eyes and stared all around me. We were in a moderately sized coffee house, the smell of roasting beans infiltrating my nose, forcing the scent of burning flesh and charcoal from my mind.

I began to shift uncomfortably in my seat. Christian had led us to a small corner of the café, away from prying eyes and affording us some semblance of privacy.

He pulled a chair up to mine, sticking close.

"You're safe," he assured me, taking my hands between his and warming them. "Just look at me."

I stared into his grey eyes and tried to slow my breaths, trying to push out more air than I was sucking in. It took what felt like an eternity for me to let the tension in my shoulders subside.

I kept my eyes on Christian while a teenage boy came over to us and asked for our order. Christian was polite but curt, asking for a pot of tea and a black coffee, dismissing the boy as soon as possible.

Christian pressed his lips together, his throat bobbing hard.

"You ran away from me," he whispered, his voice laden with gravel.

"I-I had to get out," I stammered. My tongue felt too large for my mouth, my throat too dry. "I was there again… I c-could feel it…"

His brows lowered around his eyes.

"I had to get out of there," I shook my head. "I didn't want to get trapped again."

"You thought you were back in the club?"

I nodded and dropped my head forward. My chin began to tremble.

"Ana," Christian sighed. He peeled his right hand from mine and tucked his fingers under my chin, easing my head up. "You shouldn't have run away. I'm here for you. You're safe now."

"I had to get away from –"

"Me?" he asked, worry etching into his gaze.

"No," I shook my head. "Not you. Never you…"

He studied my face and then nodded, understanding why and who I was escaping.

"I'm sorry," he whispered.

"She's one of them, isn't she?"

He gave me a single nod.

I let out a short burst of air.

"Please don't punish me for having a past," he begged. His eyes fell to our fingers, mine still hiding under his left hand. "I'm not proud of my past, but I can't change the fact I wasted time on people who meant nothing to me."

"W-What?"

"If I had known you were out there, I wouldn't have wasted a single second on other women," he urged. He shook his head and grimaced. "I would have waited for you."

"That's not what I meant," I muttered.

He raised his head and met my gaze. His face was mixed with concern and dread, and it made my stomach twist into an even harder knot.

"It's not what you did with her," I said. "That's not the reason… It's who she looks like. I saw her and I thought of -"

I bit down on my tongue to stop myself from crying.

"Leila," Christian said, making the connection. He sighed. "They do look alike. More so than any of the others."

Christian had confided in me months ago about why his submissives all looked similar – why they were all pale-skinned brunettes. But Leila and Amber were near identical to each other. It was like looking at Leila's twin.

Was that the reason _she_ hooked Leila and Christian up? Because she looked like the last woman she had introduced Christian to?

"I panicked," I blurted. "I saw Leila in my mind and I was right there again. I just panicked… I'm sorry."

"Hey, don't apologise to me," he sighed.

He edged forward on his seat and nuzzled the tip of his nose against mine.

"I could hear her voice," I said, my voice shaky and as weak as I felt.

"Leila's?"

I shook my head.

"You heard _her_?" he checked, a frown consuming his features. "What do you mean?"

"What she said to me before the fire… I heard her say it again."

I licked my lips. Tears started to build in my eyes and I couldn't stop them from falling.

"She's in my head," I croaked. "She's in my head and I can't get rid of her."

"Just take a deep breath, okay –"

"She's always right there," I snapped, slipping my hand out from under his and jabbing my fingers against my temple. "I just want to forget her. I don't want to be reminded of her every day!"

"Ana –"

"She introduced you and that woman, didn't she? Amber?"

He paused for a second and then nodded. He leaned back in his chair as the waiter brought our drinks over and set them down on the table.

"When?" I asked once we were alone again.

"About three years ago?" he shrugged. "I don't remember the exact time frame."

"How long did it last?"

"What?"

"You and her. How long did your contract last?"

"A year."

He held my gaze and waited for me to respond. But I didn't have anything to say. I don't know why I even asked that question. I didn't care how long it lasted. I didn't care about his submissives. They are his past, not his future.

"None of this is important," he said. "You know that what I had with those women was purely physical. It was about control, nothing more."

"I know," I sighed.

"There was no emotion in it for me," he continued. "It was a business transaction, that's all."

His stare was unyielding. He hardly even blinked, his eyes never shifting off my own.

"What we have together, it means so much more to me that what I had with those women," he promised. "Jesus, it makes my fucking skin crawl thinking about being with anyone but you."

"Do you think about them?"

"Never," he shook his head.

I was relieved to hear that.

"Before the fire," I began. I was wary of saying this to him. I hadn't revealed this to anyone. "When I was tied up… She told me I was just like them. She said that I was just another woman you would use and then leave."

"Tell me you don't believe that?" he begged. "You can't possibly think that's true?"

I shook my head. "That's what I heard her say in the store, in my head… She said she was going to enjoy it. Watching me…"

"Don't say it," he grimaced, slamming his eyes shut. "I don't want to think about that. I can't bear the idea of what could have happened to you."

"That woman thought I was one of your subs," I muttered.

"I set her straight," he said. "You don't need to worry about Amber. She's a narcissistic bitch who thinks she's better than she is. We'll never have to deal with her again."

"How can you be sure?"

"I'll have Taylor remind her of the rules," he replied. "I'll make sure he contacts the others and reminds them too. Amber knows the deal. None of them are allowed to contact me. None of them are allowed to talk about me to anyone else."

"The NDAs," I nodded.

"That was one way I protected myself."

I narrowed my eyes at him.

"I have other measures in place to make sure they don't reveal anything to the press," he elaborated.

"What kind of measures?"

"It doesn't matter."

"It matters to me," I shot back.

He stared at me, unwilling to answer my question, but when I didn't budge he let out a long sigh. He pushed his fingers back through his hair.

"I have photographs of them."

"W-What?"

"It's leverage," he gulped. "I took photographs of them in my playroom."

I slammed my hand over my mouth as I dry-heaved.

I knew in an instant that _she_ would have told him to do that. She was a voyeur. She had rooms in her club for people to watch other couples having sex. She was a pervert.

She was a monster.

"If they threaten to sell a story, I'll release the photographs," he added. "It's collateral."

"Where are they? The pictures?"

"On a hard-drive in my safe." He hesitated. "And no, I don't look at them."

"I believe you," I admitted.

"Do you?" he asked. "Do you believe what that bitch told you? That you mean nothing to me?"

"No," I shook my head. "I know you love me."

"Then don't let her get inside your head and try to convince you otherwise," he urged. "Baby, she's dead. She can't hurt you anymore."

"You definitely saw her body?" I whispered. "It was definitely her?"

"One hundred percent," he nodded. "It was her. She is dead."

Another bout of tears trickled down my cheeks. He tried to wipe them away but it was futile. I couldn't stop the stream.

"I don't want her in my head," I cried. "I don't want to think about her. I don't want to feel this way."

"I know, baby."

"I just want to be normal again."

"I wish I could magic you better," he said. He brought his head close to mine, his lips kissing their way across my forehead. "I wish I could take away all of your pain."

"I'm going crazy, aren't I?"

"No. You're not crazy. You won't feel like this forever. I promise you, you will overcome this."

"I don't think I will," I shook my head.

He cupped his hand around my jaw and tilted my chin up so I had nowhere to look but into his eyes.

"There will come a day when you won't feel like this," he told me in a careful, steady tone. "There will come a time when you won't be scared of her."

"You promise?"

"I promise," he nodded. "If I can move past the fear, you can too."

"What do you mean?" I sniffed.

"My past," he muttered. "What happened when I was a kid… It doesn't scare me anymore. It doesn't leave me wanting to tear my skin apart like it used to. I don't relive those nightmares every day. They can't hurt me anymore and I won't let the memories of what they did destroy me."

I wished that was the same for me. But my nightmares were still too fresh, still too close for comfort.

Christian has fought hard to overcome his past. Surely if he can do it, anyone can?

 _Why are you even comparing yourself to what he's been through?_ The snide voice in the back of my head made a rude appearance. _What Christian went through was a real trauma, he sustained years of abuse. You were only in that stupid building for an hour, stop being such a pathetic mess_ …

"You will beat this," he promised. He rolled his thumb across my lower lip. "I know you will. You are the strongest person I know."

"I'm not strong," I shook my head.

"You are," he said firmly. "You are amazing. I am in awe of you."

"Why?" I frowned. "Any time I see something that reminds me of that day, I freak out. You know I do."

Whilst my night terrors had ended long ago, this wasn't the first time I had been crumbled to an emotional wreck by something ridiculous. This wasn't the first time Christian had needed to prop me up. I have freaked out over seeing a burning building on the television, I have panicked at the sound of a woman screaming or the smell of burnt toast.

"I'm sorry," I sighed. "I'm so sorry."

"You have nothing to apologise for. I should be the one apologising to you. You didn't deserve any of this."

"I just want to forget everything… I just want this to be over."

He sat quietly, holding me close to him as I took a moment for myself. He shuffled closer to me and I rested my forehead against his chest. His hands moved up and down my back, gently stroking me.

I raised my head and pressed my mouth to his.

"Help me forget," I breathed, my kiss becoming more frantic and urgent. I worked my fingers through his hair. "Please, help me forget."

He softened into my kiss for a second before pulling his head away.

"Christian –"

"Why don't we finish our drinks and then we can head home?" he suggested.

I felt my heart sink into my feet.

"I need you," I told him, forcing my lips to his again.

"You've got me –"

"I need you now," I urged.

I could tell by his reservation that he wasn't going to give in to me. I stared him in the eye and shook my head.

"I'll take you home," he said.

"What's happened to us?"

He frowned. "What do you mean?"

"You don't want me like that anymore," I whispered, lowering my gaze to my fingers. The back of my eyes began to sting again. "It's not the same anymore."

"Ana…"

"I miss that side of you," I said. "I miss my carefree Christian… She's taken you from me."

He opened his mouth to protest but silenced himself when I raised my eyes to his.

"You won't touch me unless we're in bed," I told him. "You hold back from me when we're together. When we're being intimate, I can see you're holding back… You're too gentle with me."

"Ana, I make love to you," he sighed. "I worship you."

I looked up at the ceiling, trying to best word what had been bugging me for the longest time. Since I first realised just how tentative he was being in the bedroom department.

"I love it when you take your time and you're being attentive," I assured him. "I do. I love that side of you."

"But?"

"I miss the rough and ready man I initially fell for," I shook my head. "I miss the Christian who would have me anywhere, anytime. The Christian who would push me against a wall and leave me breathless."

He clenched his jaw.

"You've changed since the fire," I told him. "When we're in the throes, you don't let yourself go. It's almost like you don't enjoy it."

"I do," he promised, narrowing his eyes at me. "Ana, every moment with you brings me nothing but immense pleasure."

"Why are you different with me now?"

"I don't want to hurt you," he revealed, licking his lips nervously.

"What?" I tilted my head, confused. "You're scared of hurting me?"

"After everything you've been through, I can't bring myself to ever cause you harm," he shook his head. "I almost lost you in that club."

"But you've never hurt me," I said. I lowered my voice. "Least of all when we've had sex."

"What if I trigger you in some way?" he huffed. "You said yourself, anything can upset you. What if I'm too rough and you start to panic? Ana, it would kill me if I was the reason you got upset. I just can't do that to you."

"You can't break me," I told him. "I know I'm putting you through hell at the moment. It's confusing for me, but I have no idea how it must feel from where you're sitting -"

"You're not putting me through anything," he rejected my claim in an instant. "I want to help you through this. I want to be by your side, every minute of every day… But I'll never be able to forgive myself if I hurt you."

"The only way you could ever hurt me is if you stop loving me," I said plainly.

"That's never going to happen," he replied. "Never."

I pressed my head close to his and closed my eyes, breathing in his familiar scent.

"I don't want to be inside my own head anymore," I whispered. "I want to switch it off."

"I know you do, baby."

"Help me forget," I pleaded. "When I'm with you, I can't think about anything else. I need to be consumed by you."

"Ana –"

"I need you," I breathed. "I need all of you. I need to know I haven't lost you as well as the old me."

* * *

"Christian…"

His name escaped in a heady moan as his lips sucked at the base of my throat. He pushed me against the door, his hands gripping the back of my thighs as he lifted me off the ground.

"I've missed this too," he breathed into my collarbone. "I've missed this so much… I didn't want to push you… I didn't want to take advantage of you…"

I squeezed my eyes shut, fearful of another batch of tears making an appearance. I didn't think I had it in me to cry anymore today.

After settling our bill, Christian had took me by the hand and led me to the rear of the coffee house. He had glanced over his shoulder before bundling me into the staff only restroom, locking the door behind us.

He had that glint in his eyes again. The spark was back and brighter than ever.

"Promise me," he panted. He raised his head and stared up at me, his eyes rich with pleading. "Promise me you will tell me to stop if I'm too rough."

"I promise," I nodded. I cupped his jaw between my palms and smothered his mouth with wet kisses. "I promise, baby."

He pushed his right hand between our hips and tugged hard on his zipper. Before I could register the sound of it, he was easing into me. I gasped as he filled me to the hilt, burying every inch of him inside me. I hooked my ankles around his thighs, pressing all of my weight into the hard wood behind me.

"You're the only one I want," Christian groaned. He grinded his hips into mine, deep and slow until I relaxed around him. "You're the only one I've ever wanted… It's always been you, Ana. It's only ever been you."

His tongue darted across my lips, licking up the sweet moans of pleasure that were bursting me from.

"We haven't lost anything, baby," he promised. He picked up his pace, taking me faster. "No one can take this from us… No one –"

"Oh fuck…"

"That's it –"

"Christian…"

"I'm here," he purred. "I love you so much. So fucking much."

I tugged on the small curls at the nape of his neck, pulling his head back until I held his gaze.

"You're mine," I told him. "And I'm yours."

"Always," he nodded.

I found my release, pleasure budding between my thighs and quickly firing its way up through my core. I thumped my head back against the door as spasms tore through me. In just a few euphoric seconds I felt the darkness ebb away, my mind clearing, my heart softening.

Christian intensified his thrusts, pounding a few more times before he shuddered against me. He groaned my name, his forehead resting against my shoulder as he poured himself into me, claiming me as his one and only.

"I love you," I panted, finding his lips again. "Thank you."

"Don't ever thank me for loving you," he whispered. "I should be thanking you… You saved me…"

"Christian –"

"And I'm going to save you from this nightmare," he said, cutting me off with another kiss. "I don't know how, but I will… I'll catch you if you fall. I'll love you until there is no air left in my body."

I pressed my forehead to his and let his words sink into my tired, heavy body.

He knew what I needed, if even I didn't know it for myself. He understood me better than anyone in this world. He was my protector and I knew that he would never hurt me, in any sense of the word. He had only my best interests at heart.


	11. Chapter Ten

**A/N: Hello my lovelies!**

 **I want to wish everyone a very merry Christmas. I hope that you have a wonderful, peaceful day regardless of whether you celebrate it or not.**

 **I'm hoping that I will update again sometime between Christmas and New Year, but in case I don't manage to get things ready in time - I hope you have a safe and happy new year. I hope 2019 brings you lots of love, happiness and good health.**

 **I hope you like this chapter.**

 **Much Love,**

 **Chelsea x**

* * *

 **Susan** – Thank you! I'm glad you liked it. :) I hope you like this chapter too! Much Love x

 **DoloresDeeHowe** – Thank you! I love how they communicate with each other too. They always find a way to get their feelings out in the open. I hope you like this chapter! Much Love x

 **SuzB** – Thank you! You're absolutely right, they are both so worried about losing one another that sometimes it stops them from opening up. But, luckily, they always find a way to share their inner most thoughts with each other. They're figuring this out in their own time. :) Much Love x

* * *

"I like that one," I muttered.

"I'm not sure…"

"Why? What's wrong with it?"

"Look at the price of it," Christian tutted, pointing at the fifty dollar tag. "That's way too expensive for us."

I rolled my eyes and nuzzled into his side, hooking my leg over his.

After leaving the coffee shop, managing to somehow avoid detection, Christian took me back to his car and drove us home. I was annoyed at our unsuccessful trip but I also knew I needed to come home. The pins and needles in my hands and feet had only started to subside once I was back in bed, curled up under the covers.

Sensing my disappointment, Christian joined me in bed with his iPad. If we couldn't get to the stores, let the stores come to us… He fired up the tablet and we flicked between websites, scouring the internet for pillows, throws and random trinkets for the apartment. We added anything we liked to the cart, everything ready to be shipped here. I had lost track of how much we had bought, Christian hitting 'checkout' before I had chance to second-guess our orders.

"This is what we should have done in the first place," he whispered. He propped the tablet against his thighs, swiping with his right hand whilst his left arm was wrapped firmly around me. "I told you I wanted to spend all day in bed."

"You did," I hummed quietly. "Today didn't go how I hoped it would."

Another bout of bile lined my throat as a shiver worked its way down my spine. The panic had left me, but the aftermath was still present in my nerves and muscles. I hate how weak each attack makes me feel. I hate how easily I can be knocked to the ground, just as I'm starting to find my feet again.

"What are you thinking about?" Christian asked. I raised my head and looked up at him. Concern was lingering in his eyes. "Are you feeling okay?"

I nodded my head. "I'm sorry for freaking out like that."

"I told you, stop apologising," he replied, shaking his head. "I should have told Amber to fuck off as soon as I saw her."

"I think I would have been okay if she didn't look so much like Leila," I said.

He arched his brow at me.

"Okay," I sighed. "It would have bothered me. I don't think anyone wants to run into one of your partner's exes."

"She's not my ex," he reminded me. "But I understand what you mean. I would hate to be faced with someone you had had a relationship of any kind with."

"She could have been anyone though," I shrugged. "A store assistant, some random woman on the street… I was gonna freak out either way. Anything that reminds me of what happened in the club sets me off."

"You'll beat this," he assured me. He pulled me tighter into his side and bowed his head to kiss the space between my brows. "Now, let's forget about what happened this afternoon. Let's concentrate on what's happening right this second, okay?"

I smiled up at him. I knew what he was doing. Distraction was key. Staying in the moment was imperative. He had walked this road before.

"I don't want to forget about one part of this afternoon," I muttered. "What happened in the coffee shop… in the restroom…"

The corners of his lips rose into a smirk. He let out a small sigh, a blissful sound that made my heart flutter.

"I think we both needed that," he nodded. "I know I certainly did."

"I get why you wanted to be careful with me," I began. I pushed up onto my side so I could see him better. "But why did you only want to have sex here, in bed? You could be gentle with me anywhere in the apartment… on the couch… in the bath tub…"

He rolled his lips together and I could see him trying to compose his reply. I wondered briefly if he knew the answer himself, or if it was just the instinctual move of a concerned boyfriend.

"It wasn't just about being gentle with you," he said. A crease formed in his brow. "I wanted you to feel safe. If we were going to be intimate and let our guards down, I wanted you to know that you were in a safe place."

"I'm not following…" I shook my head. "Christian, I know I'm safe with you, regardless of where we are."

"But this is my safe place," he declared, patting his hand on the mattress. "Nothing bad can happen to me here. Not anymore… For years I was scared of coming to bed. I would dread the night rolling in, knowing that I would get maybe one or two hours sleep before my nightmares woke me up. It's no wonder I was a miserable bastard for so long."

"You stopped having nightmares when we got together," I hummed, slotting the pieces of the puzzle together. "That's why you wanted to see me all the time when we first started dating, wasn't it?"

"That first night I slept beside you was the only good night's sleep I'd had in my whole life," he nodded. "Once I had experienced that, once I had realised how good I could feel after having a peaceful night, I knew I couldn't give it up. I had tasted freedom. You made me feel safe. Since that first time, I've never worried about going to sleep as long as I know you're beside me. You've made this space my haven."

"And you wanted me to feel that way too," I nodded.

"I can't make you forget what happened in the club," he sighed. "I can't cure you, even though I would love nothing more than to take away your pain. But I can make sure you are looked after, that you come to bed without a single worry. That when we come together in this bed, you know that nothing will ever hurt you."

My chest swelled as I absorbed his words.

He had always been adamant that we would never practice kinkier things in his bedroom.

His submissives had the bedroom upstairs to escape to. That was their place. Completely detached from him.

My safe place is firmly beside him. He is my safe place.

I dropped my arm over his waist and hugged him tight, burying my face into his chest.

"Please, don't cry," he whispered. His hands worked their way into my hair, gently combing it from root to end. "You'll set me off if you start crying again."

I squeezed my eyes shut. I didn't want to see him cry. I had only seen him weep on one occasion – in London, when he revealed the truth about his childhood to me, when he told me about his birth mother and her pimp. It had broken me to see him like that. And right now I'm already a shattered mess of the person I used to be.

Stemming my tears, I slowly raised my head and brought my face close to his. His lips puckered and pressed lightly against mine.

"What I said, about you being careful with me… I don't want you to think I was criticising you," I told him. "I wasn't complaining about our sex life."

"You were complaining," he said. He slid his hand out from the back of my neck and slowly traced my jaw with his fingers. "And that's okay. I'm not offended by what you said."

"You're not?"

"I was waiting for you to make the first move," he explained. "Baby, after everything you've been through, I know that you need to be in control from now on. All of this has to be on your terms."

"I've been trying to work out how to talk to you about it," I revealed.

"You can talk to me about anything," he smiled. He brushed the tip of his nose against mine. "I want you to feel comfortable and confident enough to talk to me about that kind of stuff. If something is on your mind, I want you to talk to me about it. If there's something I'm doing wrong, challenge me on it."

"You're not doing anything wrong," I assured him. "You're amazing… Everything you've done for me since the fire… I don't think you know how much it means to me."

"I have a good idea," he hummed quietly, offering me another sweet kiss. "I just need you to promise me that if you ever feel uncomfortable with something, you have to tell me. If I'm holding you in a certain way and…"

He trailed off, unable to follow through on that train of thought. I knew where he was heading, though. In the immediate days after the fire, I couldn't even stand the feel of tight-fitting clothes. I hated it when I became wrapped up in the bedsheets and could feel them snaking around my limbs, restraining me.

Christian had witnessed everything. He's been there every step of the way. He's a stronger man than I think anyone realises. I wonder how many men would walk away from someone like me…

"I promise I'll tell you if something doesn't feel right," I reassured him. "I don't want you to think I don't enjoy it when you're softer with me… I love that side of you. I just missed the way we used to be."

"You missed the nymphomaniac, huh?" he smirked.

"Kinda," I giggled. I set my hands on his chest and pulled myself all the way up, making myself higher than him. "I love it when you're rough and quick and you catch me off guard... and I love it when you're slow and steady, too. When you take your time with me."

"I'd never done slow and steady until I met you," he admitted with a shake of his head. "I didn't think I was capable of enjoying sex without all of the other stuff… But I love it when it's just the two of us, no frills –"

"No frills? I thought you liked my lace panties?" I joked, squinting my eyes at him.

"See, this is what I love about you," he chuckled, a grin high across his mouth. "I love your sense of humour. I love how, even after a day like today, you can still find something to joke about."

He brought his lips to mine and teased a toe-curling kiss from me, my skin prickling under his light touch.

"I love everything about you, Anastasia Steele," he murmured.

"I love you too," I smiled. "More than you'll ever know."

Christian lifted the iPad from his lap and dropped it onto his bedside counter. His hands moved to my body, starting at my waist, his fingers dancing their way down to my hips. I lifted my leg and straddled him, pushing my hands into his chest to steady myself. I still felt a little wobbly, like I could topple over any second.

"I appreciate everything you've done for me," I whispered. I bowed my head and kissed him, my hair falling forward and cocooning our faces in a mass of dark waves. "I've never had someone look after me the way you do…"

"I'm glad I'm your first," he smirked.

"I know it can't be easy," I breathed. "Juggling work and helping me get better."

"You say that like it's a chore," he frowned. He looked up at me and shook his head. "Baby, loving you is a privilege. It's an honour I take seriously. Yes, my work is important to me, but you will always come first. If I had to choose, there's no contest. You're all I need."

"Christian…"

"We haven't made vows to each other, but I promise you that I'll always be here for you," he whispered, his voice gruff and oozing with sincerity. "I will be by your side through everything, good or bad. There's nowhere else I'd rather be… I'm not perfect and I'm going to make mistakes, I'm still figuring out this whole relationship thing."

"We both are," I nodded. "It's new for me, too."

"But there's one thing you can always count on," he added. His hands slinked around my back and cupped my behind. "No matter what happens, nothing will ever break us apart. If we're ever separated because of work or family or some other bullshit, I want you to know that I'm always with you. You carry my heart with you everywhere you go."

"I promise I'll take care of it," I smiled. I rubbed myself against him, lowering my chest to his. "We're going to be together forever, aren't we?"

"You're never getting rid of me," he grinned. "You're stuck with me now."

"Good…"

"How did I get so lucky?" he hummed. "I don't know who or what brought us together, whether it was fate or God, but I will worship at their fucking feet for the rest of my life… Everything changed the second I met you."

"You practically knocked me off my feet," I giggled, remembering the way we crashed into each other. "You bumped into me."

"I think you'll find that you ran into me," he teased. "You took my breath away…"

"You followed me home."

"And I've been stalking you ever since."

A laugh broke out of me, cutting through the stillness.

I sat up and gathered the bottom of my dress between my trembling fingers. I pulled it over my head and threw it on the floor.

"I wish you could see what I see," he sighed. His eyes took in every inch of my body, his tongue slowly darting across his lips. "Because you are fucking perfect…"

I began lifting his t-shirt up his body, my anticipation rising as I glimpsed the light brown hairs that lined his torso from his chest to his crotch.

Christian sat up and buried his face between my breasts, kissing the centre of my chest before making his move. He held me close to him as we swapped places.

He kneeled between my thighs as he slipped off his t-shirt and cast it aside. Eager, I reached down and tugged at his jeans, pulling the zipper apart and slipping my hand beneath the waistband of his boxers.

"You feel that, baby," he purred. I nodded my head, my fingers working their way around his erection. "It belongs to you… My body belongs to you."

"I want all of you," I moaned.

He pushed his jeans down and lowered his body to mine again. He settled between my thighs and propped himself up on his elbows.

"You have me," he breathed, gazing down at me. "Any day, any time, any place. You've got me. I'm yours."

"Christian?"

"Yes, baby?"

"Make love to me," I panted. I hooked my hands around his neck and pulled his face to mine. "Make love to me all night long."

"I'll make love to you for the rest of my life," he promised. The corner of his mouth lifted into a wicked smirk. "And I'll fuck you whenever you want something more intense... when you want to pull my hair and scream my name…"

I shook my head and giggled, my stomach bouncing against his as he lay down on top of me.

"Whatever you want, I'm ready to give it to you," he said. "Just tell me what you want and it's yours."

"I want to feel you inside me," I whispered. "Deep inside me…"

"It'd be my pleasure," he smiled.


	12. Chapter Eleven

**A/N: Happy New Year, my lovelies! I hope that you all had a safe and wonderful time celebrating last night/today. Sending you all plenty of luck and well wishes for this new year.**

 **I hope you like this chapter and continue to enjoy the story as it unfolds. :)**

 **Much Love,**

 **Chelsea xx**

* * *

 **DoloresDeeHowe –** Thank you! I'm glad you're enjoying this portrayal of our favourite couple. I hope you like this chapter! Much Love x

 **Lavendarjade** – Thank you! I'm glad you liked it. I hope you enjoy this chapter too. Much Love x

 **Susan** – Thank you! Happy holidays to you and your family too. I hope you had a peaceful break and I hope you enjoy this chapter! Much Love x

 **Reds77** – Thank you, my lovely! Glad you liked it! Happy holidays to you and your family too! Much Love x

 **SuzB** – Thank you, my lovely! I hope you had a great Christmas and New Year's celebration. I hope you like this update! Much Love x

* * *

All too quickly Monday made another appearance and I was back at my desk. As much as I loved my job, I wished the weekend had been longer. I craved more uninterrupted time with Christian. I had to practically tear myself away from him this morning, my body still needing his touch, my ears needing his comforting words and reassurances.

Saturday had been the most challenging day I've faced since coming out of hospital. The effects of the incident in Macy's lingered in my skin even now.

Christian waited until Sunday evening to broach the subject of what happened with me again. He was careful and calm, holding my hand as we talked about how I was feeling. He also confessed that he had taken the initiative to call Rhian.

 _"I had to call her,"_ he had admitted. _"I know I promised I wouldn't get involved in your therapy, but I needed her advice. I need to know what to do if something like that happens again."_

 _"You said it wouldn't happen again,"_ I had replied, frowning. _"You said Taylor will talk to all of your subs?"_

 _"He will, don't worry about that. No, I mean the way you reacted. Rhian said it sounded like you had a panic attack."_

 _"I figured that's what it was… Christian, I don't want to experience that again. I don't want to have another one…"_

 _"I know, but we'll get through it if you do. We'll do it together. We'll keep taking this one day at a time, okay?"_

I slumped back into my chair and glanced out of the large window to the side of me, my eyes locking on Grey House.

I knew that Christian was happy to help me through all of this, but I couldn't help but worry about the strain I was putting on him. It's a lot for one person to handle, more so when you have as many issues as Christian does. I just hope that if he starts to find things difficult, he'll tell me at the first opportunity. I don't like the idea of him juggling too many things. The risks are too high in this game.

"Problem?" Jaz asked, glancing up from her tablet.

"No," I shook my head. I sighed and slid my chair closer to my desk. "Would you mind leaving me alone for a few minutes? I need to make a call."

"Sure," she nodded, her long braids flinging back over her shoulders as she bolted from her seat. "I'll come back when you're done."

I thanked her and waited until she closed the door before I picked up my phone. I scrolled through my contacts and found Rhian's number. She was her usual, chirpy self when she answered.

"I'm glad you called," she said, her Irish accent soft in my ear, instantly soothing. "I was worried after Christian rang me yesterday."

"He told me he'd called you," I confirmed. I chewed on the inside of my cheek, hesitating. "Look, I'm sorry I didn't tell you what's been happening."

"Ana," she sighed. "I'm not going to shout at you for keeping something from me."

"You're not?"

"Last time I checked, you're not one of my kids," she chuckled. "No. It's up to you what you tell me. But I want you to know that you can share that kind of information with me. I want to help you and, in order to do that, sometimes I need to know the full extent of your problems. So I know what we're dealing with. That's all."

"I know… It's just…"

Difficult? Embarrassing? Terrifying?

 _All of the above_...

"How many panic attacks have you had?" she asked, choosing to move away from my reasons for not confiding in her.

"A few," I mumbled. "Less so recently... Saturday was the worst one I've had, though."

"Does Christian know you've been experiencing them for a while?"

"Yeah, he's been there every time I've had one," I said. "He's been really helpful."

"That's great. You know he called me for advice," Rhian explained. "He just wanted to make sure he was doing and saying the right things. I've talked him through some techniques and I'd like to run you through them too."

"Okay."

"We'll discuss it during your next session. You good for Friday?"

"I'll have to check my schedule for the rest of the week," I told her.

"No problem, just drop me a message," she replied. "And Ana?"

"Yes?"

"Don't feel embarrassed about this," she said, adopting a quieter, motherly tone. "It's nothing to be ashamed of. We can work together and help you conquer this."

"Will I need medication?" I tentatively asked.

It was something that had plagued me for most of the weekend. In a quiet moment while Christian was fixing me something to eat, I had consulted Dr Google and stumbled into the realm of anxiety treatments. Medication was at the top of the list.

"Do you want to consider medication?" Rhian probed. "It is an option for you, if that's something you'd like to explore."

"No," I blurted. "No, I don't want that. Not if I can avoid it."

"Okay," Rhian replied. I heard a smile in her voice. "It's okay. I'm not going to pump you full of pills. You're in the driving seat here."

I let out a short sigh upon hearing that, relief washing over me.

"You get to decide what happens. You're in control, honey," she assured me. "Just keep remembering that. I know you don't feel like you're in control right now but you are."

"Thank you. I needed to hear that," I whispered.

"Let me know when you're free and I'll fit you in," she said. "We'll crack this, I promise you. We'll get there."

I said my goodbyes and ended the call.

I stared down at my phone and studied my screensaver - my favourite picture of me and Christian together. Instinctively I opened up my messages and sent him a text.

 _Hey, hope you're okay? I just called Rhian. We spoke about what happened and she's going to help me with it. You were right to call her. Thank you x_

His reply came through at lightning speed.

 **I'm glad you finally agreed to talk to her about it. She can help you. I didn't want to go behind your back and talk to her about it, I just needed some tips and pointers. I hope you understand, baby. It's only because I love you. C x**

Christian had been telling me since I first experienced one of these attacks that I should talk to Rhian about it. But he hadn't pressured me in any way. Where my therapy was concerned, he didn't get involved beyond driving me to and from sessions and paying for my fees.

 _I know and I love you too. I couldn't get through this without you. You're my rock x_

 **The feeling is entirely mutual. C x**

Before I could finish typing my reply, another message pinged on the screen.

 **I've got an important meeting now. I'll talk to you later, okay? C x**

 _No problem! I have to get back to work too. I hope your meeting goes well x_

 **I love you. C x**

I smiled as I re-read his message.

I don't think he'll ever realise how incredible it feels to see or hear those words coming from him.

* * *

I volunteered to do the lunch run for everyone on my floor, using it as an excuse to get some fresh air and stretch my legs after sitting down for too long. As always, Jaz hovered at my side, blocking other people from getting too close to me. Sawyer kept a more respectable distance, trailing behind us.

We had crossed the street and started to make our way to the nearest deli when my stride faltered. I felt my phone buzzing in my pocket, vibrating against my hip. I pulled it out and was surprised to see Ray's name flashing up at me.

"Hey, Dad," I answered, instantly slowing my pace so I could talk to him without sounding wheezy or breathless.

"Annie," he sighed with relief oozing into his voice. "I was starting to get worried, kiddo."

"Why? What's wrong?"

"I haven't heard from you in over a week," he told me. "I was expecting you to call me at the weekend, like you usually do."

I threw my head up to the clouds and closed my eyes, guilt slashing through me.

Damn it.

I had completely forgotten to call Ray for our weekly check-in. It was a routine of ours ever since my freshman year at WSU. Even if I'd seen him during the week, I always called him for our usual chat about nothing in particular. It was our thing.

"Dad, I'm sorry," I mumbled. "It slipped my mind. I had a crazy weekend."

"Crazy?" he questioned. "What do you mean? Did something happen? Are you okay?"

Just like Christian, Ray was permanently on edge where I am concerned. It's gotten worse since Maîtrise.

"I'm fine," I fibbed. "I just meant I was really busy, that's all. I'm sorry. I'll set a reminder for next time, so I don't forget."

"It's okay. You know I just wanna hear your voice and know you're okay, baby girl," Ray replied, his voice softening a little. "It's actually been pretty crazy for me too."

"It has?" I said. I picked up my feet and carried on walking, making my way through the square gardens that marked the halfway point between SIP and Grey House. "What have you been up to? Keeping out of trouble, I hope?"

"You know me, I'm the model citizen," he chuckled under his breath. He paused and then cleared his throat, hesitating. "No, I actually went to see José."

My skin prickled at the mention of my former friend and confidant.

"His dad invited me over for a beer and a catch up," Ray continued. "I didn't realise Little José was going to be there. Rachel said he was probably going to stay upstairs the whole time. He's not really up for being around anyone at the moment."

"He's at home? I thought he was being moved to a new rehab facility?"

"He is. They moved him into this new place almost as soon as he came back to Portland," he told me. My steps came to a snail pace. "He was on a home visit... His dad told me that this new place isn't as nice as the one near you, but at least he's closer to family now."

"You saw him, though?" I asked. I could feel my voice quivering in the back of my throat. "Did he… did he look okay to you?"

There was silence on the line and I closed my eyes, bracing myself.

"It was like looking at a ghost, Annie," Ray sighed, anguish in his tone. "He's lost so much weight… He didn't even look at me, let alone say a word. He was just hobbling around."

"W-Why?"

"It's the burns," he explained in a low mutter. "His dad told me they chafe when he walks, so he can't move that quick."

"When was this? When did you see him?"

"Friday night. The doctors agreed to let him come home on Thursday nights and he is meant to head back to the centre on Sunday mornings," Ray said. "It's meant to be good for him, being at home. I don't see how. Not with how he reacted when he went back last night."

"What do you mean?" I pressed him for information. "What happened?"

"Annie," my dad sighed. "I've said too much. You don't need to hear this. Forget I said anything."

"No, I want to know," I shot back, almost snapping at him. I sucked in a sharp breath. "Dad, please, tell me? I want to know how he is."

"I really don't think you should hear this, baby girl," he mumbled. I heard him grunt as he sat down. I could envisage him leaning forward on his chair, rubbing his forehead in exasperation. "It's not pretty –"

"Dad, I need to know what's going on," I said firmly. "If you don't tell me, I'll find out from someone else."

I didn't expect him to believe that.

He knows I can only rely on him for information about José, especially now he's left Seattle and pulled away from me. Ray's my only link and I craved information on José's progress. I needed to know how his recovery was going. He almost died at that woman's hands.

 _Because of me. She only targeted him because of me._

Ray let out a hard breath and I knew he was giving in to my request.

"He hasn't settled into the new facility as well as he should have," he began. "The move wasn't as smooth as everyone hoped it would be."

"They shouldn't have moved him in the first place," I shot back with a grumble. I shook my head. "He was getting the right help here. Christian was making sure of it."

"They had their reasons for moving him, Annie," Ray replied.

He didn't elaborate on his comment. He didn't need to. José's cousin, Rachel, had made it pretty clear that I was the problem.

José blames me for him getting caught up in all of this mess. He refused to see me whenever I visited the rehab centre here. It's been months and I haven't had chance to even set eyes on him, let alone ask how he is and find out what I can do to make things better.

José had his problems. He needed help. But he wasn't the monster Detective Wright - that bitch's sub - had me think he was. José wasn't stalking me. He wasn't masterminding my downfall. He was locked away in an attic, being starved and abused, having heroin pumped into his body by a maniac.

"His doctors think it'll take a little while for him to adjust to his new surroundings. That's why they thought it was good for him to go home," Ray continued, filling the silence that had developed down the line. "But when he went back last night, he did something stupid."

"What? What did he do?"

"Annie –"

"Tell me!"

Other pedestrians shot me a concerned look as my voice cut through the midday traffic. I came to a standstill and turned my back to everyone.

"The doctors had to sedate him," Ray reluctantly told me, his voice barely a whisper over the whooshing in my ear. "He completely lost it. He started ripping up his room… smashing up his bed, tearing his clothes apart… He locked himself in the bathroom and wouldn't come out."

I pressed a hand to my waist, feeling like I'd been sucker-punched in the gut.

"They had to break down the door and when they did…" he gulped hard. "He was hurting himself. He had taken a piece of broken glass and he was…"

Ray trailed off but I understood what he meant.

I stumbled but Jaz was quick to react. She set her hands on my arms and kept me upright. She didn't say anything. She simply led me over to a nearby bench and carefully sat me down on it. She hovered in front of me, shielding me from prying eyes.

"Was he trying to…?" I couldn't bring myself to say the words. "Do you think he wanted to…?"

"No," Ray said instantly. "No, Annie, it wasn't like that… It was the tattoo."

"W-What?"

"He was trying to get rid of it," Ray whispered. "He was trying to cut it out."

I leaned forward, hanging my head towards the floor.

The bitch troll had left a permanent reminder on José's skin. She had scratched my name into his chest, just above his heart. She hoped that when the authorities found us, dead, it would look like José was obsessed with me and had been driven to murder.

She had thought of everything but her own demise.

My stomach twisted as I thought of José hurting himself. Digging into his skin with glass. Trying to exorcise himself of both that woman and me.

Cutting us out like a cancer.

"They sedated him as quickly as they could," Ray added. "They managed to clean him up. His dad called me earlier to let me know what's happening… I was worried that maybe he'd got upset seeing me. Maybe I reminded him of…"

"Of me," I finished his sentence.

Ray cleared his throat. "They're going to stop his home visits. Give him time to get his head straight."

"Is he seeing a therapist?" I asked in a croak.

"I think so," he hummed. "Apparently it's normal to have outbursts like that, but they're worried he's started hurting himself. They might consider moving him to a watch room, whatever that's supposed to mean."

 _Suicide watch._

"I'm sorry, Annie," Ray muttered. "I didn't call to tell you this. You shouldn't have to hear this. You have enough to deal with. I'm sorry, baby girl."

"It's okay…"

"How are you holding up?" he asked, warily.

"Fine," I squeaked. I cleared my throat. "Each day is different… Work is keeping me busy."

"That's good," he said. "Are you at work now?"

"No, I'm on my break at the moment."

"Oh, okay, good…" he trailed off. Another silence built between us before he let out another long sigh. "How is Christian treating you?"

"You don't need to worry about Christian, Dad," I muttered back to him. "Seriously. He's looking after me."

"You're my daughter, I'm always gonna worry about you. Doesn't matter if you're twenty-two or ninety-two. You're my little girl."

My cheeks warmed at his words and I closed my eyes, a familiar stinging sensation starting to build in them.

"You still there, kiddo?"

"Yup," I hummed.

"I'm sorry about José," he whispered. "I know how upsetting it is for you, not being able to talk to him."

"I just want him to get better… He was my best friend. I don't care about what happened before, I just want him fit and well again."

"He'll get there," Ray tried his best to reassure me. "He's a strong boy. He'll pull through… In the meantime, keep your head up and carry on the way you are."

"I'll try."

"I'm proud of you," he grunted. Emotion filled his voice. He tried to hide it behind a cough. "I miss you. Come see me again soon, yeah?"

"I will," I promised. "I love you, Daddy."

"Love you too, baby girl."

We said our goodbyes and I ended the call, shoving my phone back into my pocket. I managed one deep exhalation before my eyes watered, a few tears trickling down my cheeks.

Would I ever manage to go a whole day without bursting into tears?

"Miss Steele?"

I shook my head, unable to speak. I squeezed my eyes shut and hugged my arms around my chest.

Jaz sat down beside me and, unexpectedly, wrapped her arm around my back. She pulled me into her side and rested her chin on my shoulder. Her apple-scented perfume filled my nose as I turned into her, nestling myself into her embrace. She held me the way Kate would - silently but with a warmth only a person with a kind soul could offer.

I didn't sob or whimper. I cried for the boy I grew up with. For the cuts he had scratched into his skin. For the constant pain he was experiencing. For his utter hatred for me and the woman who almost killed him.

"Um, ma'am, should I call Mr Grey?"

I raised my head and blinked hard, turning my face towards Sawyer. He stood to my side, his hands knotted in front of him and worry contorting his face. His eyes fleeted between me and Jaz.

"No," I shook my head. I peeled away from Jaz and wiped my cheeks with the cuff of my jacket. "No, don't call him."

"But he said to call him if you're –"

"I know what he said," I snapped. I blew out a breath. "Sorry… I just don't want to disturb him. He'll be in a meeting."

"Miss Steele –" Jaz addressed me a quiet voice. "Mr Grey would want to know if you're upset, regardless of his schedule."

I knew what she was saying was true. I let my eyes wander over to Grey House, a mere fifty feet away from where I was sitting.

I shook my head and wiped my cheeks again.

"I'll talk to Christian later," I said. I clapped my hands on my thighs before pushing up to my feet, smoothing down my skirt as I rose. "Right now, I need to get lunch for everyone."

"I can –"

"I need to do this," I said, interrupting Sawyer. "I need to get back to work."

"Are you sure, ma'am?" he checked.

I nodded firmly.

After a few seconds we started to make our way to the deli again, the pair of them flanking me on either side.

"Can I ask you both something?" I whispered. "Please don't go behind my back and call Christian."

"I promise," Jaz confirmed quickly.

"Sawyer?"

I gazed up at him. He studied my expression before finally nodding his head.

"Will you talk to him, though?" he asked. "He worries about you. He'll want to know that you've been upset by something. Whatever it is."

"I'll talk to him," I nodded, making a promise. "Later. After lunch."

He gave me a quick smile and agreed to my request.

"Thank you," I muttered.

All I wanted was to get back to my office and have some alone time. Time to compose myself and process what I had heard.

I knew Christian would come running as soon as he knows something is up and right now, if I see him, I know I'll fall apart. He's the one who keeps me together but at the same time, a single comforting look from him can leave me a trembling wreck.

No. I would call him if I needed him, if I started to panic or slip into despair. But somehow I was still clinging onto the threads of my sanity and managing to keep them together.

 _One step at a time..._


	13. Chapter Twelve

**A/N: Hello Lovelies. I hope you're having a great weekend.**

 **Thank you for the comments on the last chapter! As always, I appreciate your support immensely.**

 **I hope you enjoy this chapter. More coming soon!**

 **Much Love,**

 **Chelsea x**

* * *

 **Bk** – Thank you! I'm glad you liked it. I hope you enjoy this chapter too. Much Love x

 **Susan** – Thank you! It was difficult to write but I think it was necessary to show how everyone will grow throughout the story. :) I hope you like this chapter! Much Love x

 **SuzB** – Thank you! It's going to be a bumpy road for Ana but hopefully this incident will spark something in her. Maybe it will help her in the long run? I hope you enjoy this chapter! Much Love x

 **DoloresDeeHowe** – Thank you! Christian is doing his best, he definitely wants to be as supportive as possible to Ana. I hope you like this chapter! Much Love x

 **Iamdbomangmail** – Thank you! It was a hard scene to write, that's for sure. I do feel sorry for José and what he's going through right now. I hope you like this chapter! Much Love x

 **Reds77** – Thank you! I hope José will be able to recover too. He had his problems but I don't think he was entirely bad. Hopefully both he and Ana will find some solace from this ordeal. I hope you like this chapter! Much Love x

* * *

Since leaving hospital distraction had proven to be the only thing that keeps me sane. Aside from Christian, of course. But starting at SIP had been the crucial moment for me. Work was my cure-all. I understood now why Christian devoted so much of himself to his work. When you're sat at your desk, away from anything that can lynch you back to whatever upsets you, you can't help but disappear into a different world. It was the easiest form of escapism.

But not today. Not after that call with Ray.

I couldn't switch off. I tried to block it out and focus on the manuscript I was meant to be working on, but I could only concentrate for a few sentences before my mind wandered.

I kept repeating what I had heard. I pictured José sitting alone, crying, angry, digging broken glass into his chest.

Jaz and Sawyer had kept a closer than usual eye on me once we returned to my office. I did as Sawyer asked and contacted Christian after lunch. To my surprise, I had actually managed to keep my food down despite my stomach rolling every few seconds.

But to my even greater surprise, I hadn't received a reply from Christian.

I started by sending him a simple text, just to say I was thinking of him. I didn't want to dive in straight away and tell him about José, I wanted to ease myself into it first. After that initial text I sent another… and another… and another…

I lost count of how many messages I actually sent him. My words were mostly incoherent and vague. I couldn't write it down. I couldn't bring myself to type out those words. It was too much. I didn't want to call him either. My voice would give me away and I knew I needed to tell him face-to-face.

However, I did confess that I was upset in one message and that I had cried. I told him I was okay, though. It was a white lie, but a necessary one. I didn't want to unnerve him. I didn't want him to race over here and potentially hurt himself in the process.

I didn't want him to think I was still that weak girl he had rescued from the fire…

 _You don't have to worry about him coming to your rescue if he doesn't reply to your messages_ , the spiteful voice in my mind chided me.

Over the course of the afternoon I regularly checked my phone, looking back over the thread of messages, waiting to see if his response would come through.

It didn't.

Maybe his battery died?

Maybe he was busy in meetings and had left his phone on his desk by accident?

 _Maybe he just doesn't have time for you?_

Without having Christian to talk to I sent an email to Rhian confirming an appointment for Friday. I didn't care what my schedule looked like, I needed to see her.

Unlike Christian, Rhian was quick to reply.

* * *

 **To: Anastasia Steele**

 **From: Dr Flynn**

 **Date: 11 June 2012 14:39**

 **Subject: Our next session**

Hi Ana,

Great, I've booked you in for Friday.

As ever, if you need to see me sooner just let me know. I can move stuff around and fit you in.

R x

J & R Therapy, Seattle.

* * *

 **To: Dr Flynn**

 **From: Anastasia Steele**

 **Date: 11 June 2012 14:42**

 **Subject: Our next session**

Thank you, Rhian.

And thanks for the offer but I won't mess up your schedule. I'm sure I can hold on until our Friday sessions. I appreciate the offer, though.

Ana

Anastasia Steele

Editor, Seattle Independent Publishers

* * *

 **To: Anastasia Steele**

 **From: Dr Flynn**

 **Date: 11 June 2012 14:47**

 **Subject: Our next session**

You're welcome at the house whenever you want – whether it's for a session or just a cup of tea and some biscuits. As long as I can dump the kids in front of the telly we're fine!

You don't have to worry about messing up my schedule. I'm not sure if I told you already but you're my only patient. I took a step back after Harriet was born and haven't taken on any new patients since. I still have my license and help John with paperwork – God knows he's awful at admin! I knew you needed help though so I was more than happy to offer my services. (Actually, it's been nice to get back into the swing of things!)

So, the offer stands. I'm here if you need me. Just drop me a message, any time, day or night. You're not a burden. You're not a nuisance. We all need someone to talk to when the going gets tough. I'm happy to be that person, if you want me to be. :)

R x

J & R Therapy, Seattle.

* * *

I found great comfort in her final comments. Just as Christian had found a friend in John, I have found one in Rhian. It felt reassuring to add another person to the list of people I can trust. It was still a small group of people, but it has always been about quality not quantity. I would rather have one good friend than an army of fakes and phoneys.

* * *

I left work at five-thirty and was home less than fifteen minutes later. As usual, Jaz drove back with me and Sawyer before clocking off for the evening. Sawyer escorted me up to the apartment, making sure I was safely home before he returned to the garage where he would stay until Taylor and Christian returned.

Mrs Jones was quick to greet me when I arrived home. My stomach started to uncoil as I let the scent of fresh bread and pasta waft over me. If there was one thing guaranteed to lift your mood, it was a home-cooked meal that is made with genuine care and affection. Mrs Jones gives her heart and soul to every task, especially cooking.

"Did Mr Grey not come home with you tonight?" she asked me, her light-coloured brows pinching together. I shook my head. "Oh, well, I'm sure he'll be home in a minute. I'll put dinner on the hot plate to keep warm until he's back."

She headed back to the kitchen and left me to shrug off my jacket and stow my things in the closet. I pushed the door to a close and slipped my phone out of my pocket, unlocking the screen to find it empty.

No notifications.

I let out a hard sigh and scrolled down through my contacts until I found Christian's number. I paced the entrance of the apartment, from the elevator to our bedroom door.

My finger was hovering over 'dial' when I heard the ping of the elevator behind me.

"Yes, I know!"

The doors reeled back and Christian bounded out of the small container, his voice cutting through the air in a loud and angered tone. I spun on my heels and stared at him. He had already removed his jacket and tie, his shirt open at the collar. His hair looked more dishevelled than usual.

His head was turned back towards Taylor, who was hot on Christian's heels and had a sombre expression on his face.

"I know," Christian repeated, quieter the second time. "But this is important. We need to do something before this fucking shit-storm explodes around us."

Christian sighed and finally twisted to face me. He came to an abrupt stop as he saw me, his chest deflating in an instant.

"Hey," he said, the word heavy and gruff on his tongue.

He strode over to me and wrapped his arm around my back, holding me whilst he pressed his lips to my forehead.

"You okay?" he asked absently.

I raised my head and stepped back so I could look at him properly.

"Are you?" I returned. He stared down at me, a small frown spreading through his brows. "You've been ghosting me all afternoon."

"Huh?" His frown deepened. "What do you mean?"

"I've been sending you messages," I explained. "You didn't reply."

He pursed his lips and pushed his hand into his pocket, pulling out his phone. Standing so close to him I was able to see his screen as he unlocked it. I saw the list of notifications indicating each of my texts.

He had received them, but hadn't opened them.

The hairs at the back of my neck rose.

"Sorry," he sighed. He shook his head. "I put my phone on silent earlier. I must have forgotten to switch it back."

"You put your phone on silent?" I repeated. "But you never have your phone on silent."

"I was in a meeting," he said, shrugging his shoulders. "I needed to focus."

"And you didn't check your phone all afternoon?" I asked. It didn't make sense to me. Christian is practically glued to his phone most of the time. "Is something wrong?"

"No," he answered quickly, shaking his head once more. He gave me a short smile. "I've just been a bit busy today, that's all."

He glanced down at his phone and swiped the notifications away. Making them disappear. He turned off his screen and returned the phone to his pocket.

Something was definitely up.

Christian spun back to address Taylor again.

"I'll meet you in my office," he told him. "I'll join you in a second."

Taylor nodded and set off in the direction of Christian's office, leaving the two of us alone in the awkwardness that was starting to develop.

I reached out and curled my fingers around his arm, drawing his gaze back to me.

"Have you eaten yet?" he asked before I could speak. I shook my head and explained that I had only just gotten home myself. "You should go ahead and eat your dinner now. I don't want you to go hungry."

"I can wait," I told him. "Until you've finished whatever you and Taylor need to sort out."

"I don't know how long it's going to take," he replied. His tired gaze roamed my face, settling on my lips for a moment. He raised his hand to my cheek. "Something's happened and I need to go deal with it."

"Something bad?" I worried.

He pursed his lips again.

It was bad, whatever _it_ was.

"Can I help you with it?"

"No," he said firmly, shooting me down in an instant. He let out a huff. "No, baby. I'm sorry. I just need to get on with this and sort it out as quickly as I can."

He dipped to kiss my forehead again before walking away from me.

"Do you have to deal with it right away?" I called after him. I picked up my feet and followed in his wake. "Do you have a couple of minutes? Can't we have dinner first?"

He came to a halt outside his office and reluctantly turned back to face me. He closed his eyes for a moment and sucked in a deep breath.

I could tell there was something troubling him and it made my spine go rigid. It takes a lot to unnerve Christian. He isn't easily riled, especially not over work stuff.

"Ana, I'm sorry," he shook his head. "I really need to sort this out. But as soon as I'm done, I'll be all yours. It's just that right now this is –"

He didn't finish his sentence.

I knew what he meant.

This is more important than having dinner with me, more important than sitting down and passing idle chit-chat like we usually do.

"I would have tackled this at my office but I didn't have time," he added instead.

"Why not?" I tentatively asked, unsure of whether I actually wanted to hear his answer.

"There were too many distractions," he mumbled.

 _Distractions_.

Was he talking about me?

Did he put his phone on silent because I was distracting him? Annoying him?

My chest tightened as I circled that possibility.

"I'll be as quick as I can," he apologised, grimacing as he took in whatever expression had spread across my face in that moment. "You know I wouldn't do this if it wasn't important."

I nodded my head.

Christian glanced over my shoulder and I followed his gaze. Mrs Jones was hovering at the entrance to the kitchen. They shared a silent look, neither of them saying anything. Mrs Jones simply nodded her head, agreeing to whatever muted request she had been given.

"Christian, I'm starting to worry now," I admitted, turning back to him. "What's going on?"

"There's nothing for you to worry about," he promised. He stepped forward and quickly pulled me into his hold. "This is for me to worry about, not you. Okay? Just let me get on with this and then I'll come join you."

"But I really need to –"

"The sooner I deal with this, the sooner I can get back to you," he interrupted. "Can you spare me for a little while?"

He gave me a pleading look. He was asking for my approval, needing me to relinquish him so he can get on with things.

I let out a small sigh and nodded my head.

He kissed the space between my brows and quickly darted into his office, closing the door behind him.

I stood still, staring at the dark wood panelling.

 _Distractions._

I am a distraction…

* * *

I spent the evening on my own.

Well, not exactly on my own. Mrs Jones had kept me company for the most part. She was a faithful companion, trying her best to take my mind off Christian, but I couldn't stop myself from periodically checking Christian's office door. From inside his office I heard clipped voices but couldn't make out what was being said.

I chastised myself for being the clingy, needy girlfriend I had never wanted to become. I have seen other women latching onto their partners, sucking the life out of them, depending on them for everything. I didn't want to be one of those women.

Am I forcing Christian to pull away from me by clinging onto him too tight?

I was upset earlier and I wanted comforting, yes, but I tried not to disturb him while he was working. I knew he was busy and I was prepared to wait until tonight to talk to him about José. That's something, isn't it? That shows I am trying not to burden him, despite the many messages I had sent him.

He said he wants to be my crutch. He wants me to confide in him and right now I want to rip my chest open and let everything pour out onto the floor, just so I don't have to hold it in any longer. I want his undivided attention. I want to feel his arms around me and hear him tell me that everything will be okay. That it will get better. That José will find peace. That I will learn to live with this torment.

But is it fair to rely on him for that?

 _No, of course it isn't, you fucking baby. Stop being so selfish. Get a grip._

I know Christian is a busy man. I knew that when I started dating him. I've always known he will need to focus on work sometimes, that he will need to take time away from me to tackle other things.

So why do I feel slighted by his behaviour now?

Is that voice in my head right? Am I just being selfish?

Maybe I've gotten too used to him being at my constant beck and call…

Just before 10pm I told Mrs Jones that I was going to bed. I could see she was happy to hear that, having spent the last hour yawning and rubbing her eyes.

I closed the bedroom door behind me and crossed the room to turn down the blinds from the switch next to the headboard. I didn't want to see the city lights tonight. I wanted the room in complete darkness. I set my phone down on the table and headed for the closet, undressing on my way. I dropped my clothes into the laundry basket and pulled on a t-shirt and some sweatpants.

I drew my hair back into a ponytail and slipped down between the sheets, tugging the covers up to my chin. I lay back and stared up at the ceiling, taking a few deep breaths before I reached out and clumsily picked up my phone. I squinted as the blue-tinged light flooded the room and I reopened the texts I had sent to Christian.

I wondered if he's since read them or if they remain unopened in his inbox...

Not wanting to be rude and against better judgement, I decided to send him another message to say that I had gone to bed. I reworded it five times before finally pressing send.

 _I'm sorry for being such a nuisance. I know you are busy and don't need me pestering you every five minutes. I'm sorry if I was the reason you couldn't concentrate at work. I sent you a lot of messages today and I don't blame you for ignoring them. I'd probably ignore me too! Anyway, I just wanted to let you know that I've gone to bed. I hope you can catch up on whatever you couldn't finish at work. I hope you'll come to bed soon. I really am sorry. I love you. Night xxx_

I waited until the message had been successfully sent before I shut down my phone and returned it to the bedside table.

Turning over, I curled into a ball and closed my eyes. Sleep crept over me quicker than I had expected, my body succumbing to a dreamless abyss that was, thankfully, free of terror and torment.


	14. Chapter Thirteen

**A/N: Hello Lovelies! I'm happy to post this next chapter so soon after the last. It's another chapter from Christian's perspective and it will, hopefully, shed some light on why he was acting so strange in the last chapter.**

 **I hope you like it!**

 **Much Love,**

 **Chelsea x**

* * *

 **Bk** – Thank you! I'm really glad you liked it. I hope you enjoy this chapter too! Much Love x

 **Susan** – Thank you! This chapter explains why Christian behaved the way he did in the last one. I hope you like it! Much Love x

 **Ms MMS** – Thank you! This chapter explains what happened to make Christian behave in the way he did. It neither excuses nor condones his behaviour, it simply provides context. Much Love x

 **SuzB** – Thank you! I think this incident will change something in Ana, maybe force her to start actually healing instead of running between problems. We'll see soon! I hope you like this chapter! Much Love x

 **DoloresDeeHowe** – Thank you! This chapter sheds some light on what's happened. I hope you like it! Much Love x

 **Iamdbomangmail** – Thank you! I'm glad you liked the last chapter. I hope you enjoy this one too. Much Love x

* * *

 **CHRISTIAN**

Christian didn't realise he had been holding his breath until he felt his chest demanding relief, his throat laced with a fire that had crept its way up from his stomach.

He dropped his phone onto his desk, having put it on silent just before this meeting. _I will switch it back later_ , he had told himself, disgruntled at having to silence it in the first place. He didn't want to be distracted by yet another pointless email from HR that should have been sent to Ros instead of him. Right now, he needed to pour all of his focus into the matter at hand.

Although, it was hard to focus at all after what he had just heard.

He shook his head in disbelief.

"You're sure?"

Kate stood on the other side of his desk, clutching a manila file to her chest. She rocked on her heels, fidgeting, clearly uncomfortable in being the one to deliver this news to him.

She had spent most of the night before looking up information on Alexander Bradford, the former CEO of Affinity Industries and the first of Elena Lincoln's victims after Christian. In the days since Christian had received Elena's journal and he had confided in his allies, they had all struggled to locate Alexander. He had disappeared off the face of the Earth. He sold Affinity Industries less than a year after he inherited it from his late father. Since then he was missing-in-action. Even Welch had drawn a blank.

But last night Kate had stumbled across a breadcrumb that led her down a very dark path.

After a brainwave, she decided to narrow down her searches even further. She was overly tired and moments away from shutting down her computer for the night when she saw it. _Bingo_. A small notice that led her to an article and the missing piece of the puzzle.

"I didn't have any luck by searching for 'Alexander Bradford', so I started looking for 'A Bradford' instead," Kate nodded. Her voice taut and barely a whisper. "That's when I came across an announcement in _The Province_ newspaper. It was printed over two years ago. It was a small notice that announced the wedding of A Bradford and E Reed."

"And?"

"Well, I thought it was a long shot but I turned to Facebook and started looking on there for an E Reed in the Vancouver area," Kate explained. "You see, the announcement stated that E Reed was the daughter of Michael and Sandra Reed. After some digging I managed to find her. Emily Reed. She married Alexander Bradford in Vancouver in January 2010."

"And you're sure it's him?" Christian asked, though something in his gut told him Kate had found their guy.

"Positive," she nodded. "I found his Facebook profile. It was set to private but there was an article he shared publicly a couple of years ago about his father's death. Timothy Bradford, the founder and CEO of Affinity Industries."

"Right," he hummed.

"His wife's profile isn't as private," Kate continued. "Recent stuff, yeah, but a couple of years ago she was sharing everything publicly. In one of her posts she mentions Alexander moving to Vancouver to be with her. He had sold the company and moved to be closer to her, apparently."

"Sounds feasible," Christian agreed. When you're in love, that's what you do. He would give all of this up in a heartbeat if he had to choose between GEH and Ana. There was no contest. "Doesn't explain why we found it hard to track him down, though."

"Ah, see, I worked that one out too," Kate said, quickly opening up the manila file and pulling out a piece of paper. She set it down on the desk and pushed it towards Christian. It was a screenshot of Alexander's Facebook profile. "After they got married he took on his wife's surname. He became Alexander Reed."

"Really?" Christian frowned. "Do you think he was trying to escape his old life? Start over as someone else?"

"It's possible," Kate shrugged.

Christian pondered this for a moment. He didn't know any guys who took on their wife's surname at marriage. He knew a few couples who joined the two names together, but no one who went the whole hog.

 _Would Ana want to take my surname if we got married? Or would she want to keep Steele in her name?_

 _Steele-Grey sounds a bit weird_ …

Kate sucked in a shaky breath and stared down at the file. Her face contorted as she studied the remaining pieces of paper. After a second's deliberation, she placed them down on the desk and handed them over.

She had spent most of the morning wondering whether she should be the one to tell him. She thought about telling Taylor first. He was close to Christian, maybe he could break the news more gently, maybe he would know the right words to use. Kate knew that either way Christian was going to take this badly. This was the last thing anyone wanted to find out. After all, they had embarked on this mission to help these men…

"I found an article printed in _The Province_ from a year ago," she began. She nervously rubbed her lips together. "Christian, I'm so sorry."

Christian lowered his eyes to the desk and the print-out staring up at him. His breath caught in his throat as he studied the large photograph of a young groom and his bride. The man looked no more than eighteen, still baby-faced and boyish. His hair was slightly darker than Christian's and his eyes were sky blue, but the similarities were definitely there.

The couple looked the picture of married bliss, but the headline above it soiled the image.

 **HEARTBREAK AS MISSING REED IS FOUND DEAD AT HOME**

"Jesus Christ…"

"His wife had reported him missing three days earlier," Kate added, summarising the tragic details. She didn't think he would want to read the article for himself. "She had flown to Toronto to visit her family. Alexander remained in Vancouver. She hadn't heard from him in days. His friends hadn't heard from him. Their neighbours said they hadn't seen him arriving at or leaving the house since shortly after Emily left."

"Who found him?" Christian asked quietly.

"His wife," Kate grimaced. "She flew back to see if she could find him. She returned home and that's when she discovered his body. He had been dead for at least twenty-four hours, according to the coroner's report."

"Suicide?"

"He hung himself in their bedroom," Kate muttered, slowly nodding her head. Her stomach had clenched when she first read the article. It was a heartbreaking end to this part of their search. "It mentions that he had apparently struggled with his mental health for a while."

"I can't believe this," Christian grunted. He pushed a hand back through his hair and gulped down the bile flooding his mouth. "He's dead?"

"There's more…"

 _More? Are you fucking serious?_

"Don't tell me his wife committed suicide too," he ordered.

Kate bowed her head and leaned forward. She removed the article about Alexander's death and revealed the second article she had printed off that morning.

"This is from six months ago," she said.

He didn't want to look at it. His mind raced through the hundred possible outcomes to this bitter tale. Grief-stricken wife commits suicide like husband… She couldn't live without him…

"Christian, look –" Kate urged him, tapping her fingers on the document. "She's alive. Emily Reed is alive."

He shot a look at Kate, reading her expression. He could tell by the way her eyes were fixed on his that she was telling the truth. This reassurance led him to turn his chin down to his desk and glance over the second article.

 **NEW HOPE FOR WIDOW: WIFE OF LATE ALEXANDER REED WELCOMES THE COUPLE'S CHILD**

 _For fuck's sake._

"Is this for real?" Christian groaned. He slammed back into his chair, shaking his head. "Are you fucking kidding me?"

Kate pressed her lips together and locked her fingers in front of her.

"She was pregnant?" he asked. Kate nodded. "She was pregnant when he topped himself?"

"She found out a couple of weeks after his death," Kate explained, lifting the information from the article. She had already read it several times over, knowing Christian would have questions. "She told the reporter that it came as a complete shock. They hadn't been trying for a baby. She says that they never even spoke about having kids."

"Fuck," Christian huffed. "Two more lives have been fucked up because of that whore."

He pushed his chair back and jumped to his feet. Walking to the window behind his desk, Christian tugged on his hair and tried to keep a lid on his budding anger.

"I'm sorry," Kate repeated, her voice laden with genuine sympathy. "None of us thought about this outcome. But we don't know why he took his own life. There could have been other reasons why he –"

Christian silenced her with a flick of his hand. He shook his head and let out a heavy sigh.

"Can you leave my office now? Please?" he asked quietly, keeping his back to Kate. "I don't want to be rude but I need to be alone right now."

"Um…" Kate hesitated, unsure. "Do you think that's a good idea?"

"Yes," he replied curtly. "I need to think."

Kate remained where she was for a few moments, contemplating her next move. She had spent enough time with Christian to know that he was a temperamental character. She had seen him angry, she had seen him lose his temper with some of her colleagues, but she had never seen him like this. She could see the frustration bubbling under the surface, building like a pressure cooker. She didn't think it was a good idea to leave him on his own. Ana had told her how Christian doesn't cope well on his own, how he can fester on torment until he drives himself crazy.

But she was still his employee and he had given her an order.

Turning on her heel, Kate silently left Christian's office, closing the door behind her. She hovered at his door as she removed her cell phone from her pocket.

She sighed as she opened up the folder of text messages between her and Elliot. The last message she had sent was from months ago, before their brief affair came to an end. It was strange seeing it now, staring back at her, full of teasing and seduction.

Kate shook her head and typed out her message, hitting send before she could change her mind.

 _Hey, just thought you should know that Christian's had some bad news today. I found out AB is dead – he committed suicide a year ago. Christian said he wants to be alone but I think he needs support on this._

Elliot's reply came through far quicker than she anticipated.

 **SHIT. Thanks for the heads up. Fuck knows how he will handle this. I'll call him and check how he is. Can you ask Taylor to keep an eye on him for me? E x**

 _Of course. I'll talk to him now._

 **Cheers. Thanks for everything you're doing for Christian. I know he appreciates your help. And I do too. You're a star! E x**

Kate shut down her phone and made her way down the hall to find Taylor. She tried to ignore the rapid fluttering in her chest as she thought about the kisses at the end of Elliot's texts.

 _It doesn't mean anything. What happened is in the past. Move on,_ Kate told herself, her head telling her to get a grip.

But her heart was saying something else entirely…

* * *

 _FUCK. FUCK. FUCK._

 _I'm doing this to help these guys. I can't do that if they're already fucking dead!_

Christian paced the length of his office, kicking everything in his path. He had already sent his chair flying across the room, along with the stack of paperwork he had been trying to plough through earlier that morning.

 _I hate you. I hope you suffered. I hope your death was long and painful._

"Fucking bitch!" he shouted.

He threw his head back and growled, the sound ripping through his chest and out of his mouth. He sucked in several hard breaths, desperately clinging onto his sanity. Losing his temper now wouldn't help anyone. Christian had spent most of his life angry and on the brink of despair. He didn't want to fall into the darkness again. Not now. He could feel himself shaking with his anger and this was starting to unnerve him. It had been a long time since he had felt this way. It was alien to him now.

Christian walked to the window on the south-side of his office and curled his fingers around the railing. He hung his head forward, closing his eyes on the world. His knuckles turned white as he gripped the rail, stopping himself from smashing the window with his fists.

 _Take some deep breaths. In. Out. In. Out._

 _Don't let the bitch win._

It took a long while for Christian to start cooling down. He slowly lifted his head and scanned the skies. His gaze fell to the streets below and the ant-like people scurrying around.

He squinted as he honed in on the small courtyard not far from his building. He studied the dark-haired woman sitting on a bench with her friend. Something tugged in his chest but he quickly shook his head, dismissing the thought.

 _Ana's at work, you fucking idiot. It's not her._

Was it his subconscious telling him to call her? Possibly. He often turned to Ana when he needed to cool down. He wasn't capable of being angry in her presence, not to this degree. She brought out the calmness in him. She brought out the best in him.

 _No. She doesn't need to see me like this. She'll start asking questions._

Christian didn't want to keep any of this a secret from Ana. He wished more than anything he could confide in her, share this burden, get her opinion on what he should or shouldn't do. But she wasn't ready to hear this. Not yet. If she couldn't stand to hear Elena's name being mentioned, she sure as hell wasn't ready to find out what the bitch had done to other young boys.

 _I'll tell her when she's stronger. I want my Ana back first. I want my strong, feisty Ana back._

 _I just want my baby to be free of this bullshit, once and for all._

* * *

Arriving home from work, Christian had locked himself in his office with Taylor. He had spent all afternoon thinking about Alexander Bradford, his grieving wife and their baby. He couldn't get them off his mind. He couldn't concentrate during the rest of his meetings and he had continually snapped at people for no reason at all.

He needed to do something. He couldn't accept that this line of inquiry was over. Alexander was dead but that didn't bring an end to Elena's legacy of torture and abuse. Suicide just moved the pain from the victim to their family.

Sitting at his desk, Christian made a promise to find out all he could about Emily Reed and her daughter. He had glanced over the article at some point during the afternoon and learned that Emily had given birth to a girl.

When Christian closed his office door, he expected to be working for just an hour or two. He and Taylor would track down Emily Reed and come up with a plan of action. What they would do next. How Christian would contact her and offer a helping hand with whatever she needed.

But time ran away from him. He ignored the rumble in his stomach telling him to eat. He pushed aside the fatigue taking over his body.

"Looks like Emily is still living in the house she shared with Alexander," Taylor piped up, clearing his throat. "But the house is currently listed for sale. She's asking for a ridiculously low price for it, less than half of what it's worth. Maybe she wants a quick sale? Cut and run?"

"Wouldn't you want to leave?" Christian sighed. "Her husband killed himself in that house. She can't be expected to live there after that, let alone raise a child there."

Taylor nodded in agreement. He pressed his fingers to his lips.

"What?" Christian asked, sensing something was up.

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Taylor wondered. "His wife has been through a lot. I don't know if you crashing into her life, out of the blue, is what she needs. She's grieving."

"And that's exactly why I want to offer her some help," Christian shot back in a huff. "I'm not planning on telling his wife about Elena. I don't know how much she knows, if anything. But I'll be damned if I'm going to let an innocent woman and her baby suffer because I didn't find Alexander sooner!"

Taylor narrowed his eyes. "You had no idea about him before you got that diary," he reminded his boss. "How were you supposed to find him if you didn't know he even existed?"

"I should have done something," Christian shook his head. "I should have known I wasn't the only one. I should have forced it out of her, made her tell me exactly who she was using."

"You weren't responsible for anything that Elena Lincoln did," Taylor told him in a hard voice, his tone gruff and terse. "Stop thinking that you should have done this or that. You were a kid when all that shit with her happened."

"But I kept her in my life long after all that ended," Christian muttered. "If I had said something to my parents, if I had realised what she was doing was wrong –"

"You need to stop torturing yourself over this," Taylor urged him. "It's not helping anyone and it isn't going to change anything. I understand why you're doing this, why you're set on helping her other victims. I know it's because you feel like you're as guilty as her, but you're not. You are a good man. You are nothing like her."

Christian slumped forward with a sigh. He knew what Taylor was saying was true. Deep down he knew he was nothing like Elena.

But he still wanted to help the people who had suffered at her hands. He had made it out of this alive, unlike Alexander. Christian had a plethora of support and services at his disposable. What about the people who don't? Why should they be forced to trudge through life trapped in the abusive bubble Elena had encased them in?

"I need to at least offer help to the people who need it," Christian said under his breath. "I know this could all backfire in my face. I know I have to tread carefully. I know all of this. But I –"

"I understand," Taylor interrupted, nodding his head. "And I will support you no matter what. You know I have your back."

Christian stared at Taylor, unsure of what title he even has anymore. Security detail? Advisor? Friend?

The latter seemed to fit more closely than the others.

"When Kate told me about his wife and baby, I could have ripped Elena's corpse from limb to limb," Christian confessed. "I want to claw at her remains until there is nothing left of her."

"I think most people would feel that way towards her."

"He has a baby that he's never going to meet," Christian grimaced. He closed his eyes, feeling them sting and ache. "She took that away from him. I know he killed himself because of her. I just know it. I can feel it in my gut… His daughter shouldn't suffer at Elena's hands. She's innocent. She's just a baby."

Taylor didn't say anything. He knew well enough that when Christian was like this, it's best to let him talk and get things off his chest.

"I couldn't help but think about Ana when I heard," Christian continued. "Ana's father died when she was just a baby. She never met him… What if this little girl isn't as lucky as Ana, to end up with a stepfather as kind as Ray?"

 _Ana._

Christian lifted his gaze to the corner of his computer screen. _Fuck_. It was almost 10pm.

She had been on her own all night.

He hoped to God that Mrs Jones had understood his request. Months ago, he had asked everyone in his life to be mindful of Ana's condition. He knew that, on occasion, he would need to devote his time to other things, but he wanted to make sure that during those moments Ana was looked after. Knowing that he needed to make a start on tracking down Emily Reed, he had hoped Mrs Jones would keep Ana company until he was done.

He just didn't anticipate he would have been away from Ana for so long.

Christian was about to switch off his computer when his phone flashed on the desk. Ana's name appeared on the screen and he quickly seized the phone, opening up the message she had just sent him.

His heart sank as he read it.

 ** _I'm sorry for being such a nuisance. I know you are busy and don't need me pestering you every five minutes. I'm sorry if I was the reason you couldn't concentrate at work. I sent you a lot of messages today and I don't blame you for ignoring them. I'd probably ignore me too! Anyway, I just wanted to let you know that I've gone to bed. I hope you can catch up on whatever you couldn't finish at work. I hope you'll come to bed soon. I really am sorry. I love you. Night xxx_**

 _Oh Ana…_

Christian pressed his fingers into his eyes.

 _What have I done?_

When he had arrived home, he had been eager to get stuck into his search because he didn't want it playing on his mind all evening. He thought that getting it out of the way early, he could then spend the rest of the night with Ana.

 _She thinks she's pestering me? For fuck's sake… FUCK._

He had been cold with her when he got home, still pumped with frustration from finding out about Alexander earlier in the day.

 _She wanted to talk to me. She needed me. Why didn't I fucking see it?_

He gulped hard.

 _She sent me messages and I ignored her._

His gut was tearing into two as he scrolled back through the other messages Ana had sent him. The ones he had failed to read.

 _I shouldn't have put my fucking phone on silent! Fuck HR. Fuck SPAM emails. Ana could have been dying somewhere in a ditch and I wouldn't have known about it._

 _You fucking prick! Stupid bastard!_

He found her first message and clenched his fist as he studied her words.

 ** _13:45 – I hope your morning meetings went well? I've just had lunch. Ray called while I was on my break. It was nice talking to him x_**

 ** _13:49 – My call with Ray wasn't exactly an easy one, I have to admit. He told me something that upset me, but I'm fine now. Back at my desk and working hard x_**

 ** _13:58 – I'm missing you. Can't wait to see you later. I'm in the mood for a long soak in the bath with you wrapped around me x_**

 ** _14:06 – I cried earlier after Ray's call. I hate myself for crying all the time. It seems like all I do lately is cry. But it's good to get it out of your system, right? x_**

 ** _14:31 – I know you must be super busy but I really can't wait to see you tonight. I think I just need to see your face and hug you. I'll feel a lot better then x_**

 ** _14:59 – I love you. I'm bombarding you with messages and I'm sorry for that, but I just want you to know I love you and that I'm okay x_**

His chest tightened.

 _She needed me and I wasn't there._

 _And now she thinks I'm mad at her._

It felt like he was being punched in the centre of his chest.

 _I promised her I would always be there for her. I've let her down._

He closed Ana's messages and found others waiting for him. He had a couple from Elliot, asking how he was, but it was a single message from Ray Steele that surprised Christian more.

It was sent before any of Ana's messages.

 ** _Hi Christian. I think I've messed up. I called Ana and talked to her about José. He isn't doing well, I saw him at the weekend. Last night he had a fit at the rehab place and starting cutting himself, trying to get rid of the tattoo. Ana begged me to tell her and now I think it was the wrong thing. She sounded upset. Can you make sure she's OK? She's not doing as well as she's telling me, is she? Thanks, Ray._**

 _It just keeps getting worse._

Christian slammed his fist down onto his thigh, every inch of his skin burning as he thought of how he had screwed up.

 _If I'd seen Ray's message none of this would have happened!_

 _Why do I always fuck things up?_

 _BECAUSE YOU ARE A USELESS PIECE OF SHIT, THAT'S WHY._

The voice in the back of his head crept to the forefront, screaming in his ears. It had been a while since he'd listened to that voice, but now it was louder than ever before.

 _YOU ARE THE WORST BOYFRIEND IN THE WORLD._

 _FUCKING USELESS._

 _YOU CLAIM YOU LOVE HER AND THEN YOU TREAT HER LIKE THIS?_

 _PATHETIC._

 _YOU HAVE ALWAYS BEEN A SELFISH BASTARD._

 _NOTHING HAS CHANGED._

 _SHE DESERVES BETTER THAN YOU._

 _IT WOULD SERVE YOU RIGHT IF SHE LEFT._

 _PEOPLE LIKE YOU DON'T DESERVE HER LOVE._

 _YOU'RE A WASTE OF SPACE._

Christian wasn't sure if the voice in his mind belonged to his birth mother, her pimp, or if it was a mixture of the two. It didn't sound like his own voice. Didn't make the words hurt any less, though.

With a heavy sigh, Christian told Taylor to call it a night and return to his apartment.

"Are you going to be okay?" Taylor asked as he gathered up his things and rose to his feet.

"Yes," Christian nodded. "But can you do something for me?"

"Anything."

"Tell Sawyer and Grande that I want to see them first thing in the morning."

"Any reason why?"

"I need to remind them of their duties," Christian shot back. Taylor frowned, confused. "Ana had a setback today and neither of them bothered to tell me or you."

"Oh," Taylor mouthed. His brows pinched together. "Is Ana okay?"

"I don't think so," Christian shook his head. "Especially not after the way I've behaved tonight…"

"Gail will have looked after her for you," Taylor assured him. He knew Gail would happily take Ana under her wing.

"That's not the point though, is it?" Christian grunted. "I want both of them here in the morning. No excuses."

Taylor reluctantly agreed to the request. He felt sorry for the young recruits. Christian's tongue could be lethal when he was angry, and Taylor didn't want to be there when Sawyer and Jaz were on the receiving end of his wrath.

Taylor excused himself, leaving Christian alone in his office.

 _I promised to look after her and I've failed_ , he repeated to himself. _I've told her over and over to come to me when she needs help. She does just that and I ignore her? No wonder she's confused_ …

Christian hauled himself to his feet and exited his office. He was nervous to head into their bedroom, unsure of what he would find.

Would Ana ignore him like he had done to her?

Would she be angry and shout at him for being such a terrible boyfriend?

Would she be in the middle of packing her bags, ready to leave him?

He hoped it wasn't the latter. He didn't want to think about the possibility of losing Ana. He wouldn't cope without her. He would rather throw himself off the balcony than live a single day without her in his life.

Christian moved as quietly as he could, carefully opening the bedroom door and finding the room in complete darkness. He hesitated, letting his eyes adjust, listening for clues as to where Ana was.

He breathed a sigh of relief when he realised she was tucked up in bed, sleeping peacefully. At least she wasn't about to do a moonlight flit.

Stripping to his underwear, Christian padded over to the bed and lifted the covers, sliding down between them. Ana was curled into a ball on the far side – his side of the bed. She was facing the middle, laying in a way that prevented him from holding her from behind like he usually did while they slept.

He edged closer to her, bringing his face inches from hers. He studied her face for a moment, taking solace in the relaxed expression she was wearing. Her lips were puckered, inviting him to kiss her.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "Ana, I am so sorry for behaving like a dick today… I swear it had nothing to do with you."

She didn't move or make a sound. She was deep in slumber, unable to grasp what he was saying, but Christian couldn't resist talking to her.

"I wasn't annoyed with you. I promise," he breathed. "It was me. I was a fucking idiot. I should have been there for you, not chasing ghosts…"

He sucked in a shaky breath and wriggled as close to her as he could. He dipped his hand under the sheets and gently lifted her left hand. He brought it to his chest, laying her fingers against his heart.

"I wanted to tell you this. I've wanted to tell you since I found out," he began, his lips curling into a grimace. "I wasn't the only one… She did this to other boys… I can't sit back and do nothing, so I've been trying to find them."

Her fingers twitched. Her index finger rubbed against one of his scars.

"The last thing I want is for there to be a legacy of pain because of that whore," he added. "I wish I could flip a switch and make all of it go away. For everyone… Especially you, baby. I would do anything to fix you."

Ana let out a small huff and nuzzled her head into her pillow. Christian paused, waiting to see if she was going to wake up. A part of him wanted her to. He wanted to tell her how sorry he was, plead for her forgiveness, make her see that none of this was her fault.

"I should have been there for you today," he muttered. "You needed me and I wasn't there, and I could beat myself up for letting you down… You're the last person I ever want to hurt."

He cradled her hand between his.

"I'm scared to tell you about her diary," he confessed. "I'm scared of hurting you. I'm scared that it'll set you back a hundred paces… I can't be the one to cause you any more pain. I just can't."

Ana let out a soft sigh and raised her knees, bringing them higher into her chest.

"I love you so much," he mumbled, hoping that at least some of his words would get through to her. "I would do anything for you… and I know that sounds pathetic after what I've done today, but I'll make this right. I'll make it up to you, I promise."

Leaning forward, he pressed his lips to hers.

"I'm trying to be a better man. I want to be a good person," he whispered.

A hard lump was forming in his throat. His chin began to tremble.

"You make me want to be the best version of myself I can be… I've been a bastard to people. I've been cruel. But I don't want to be that man anymore. That's why I have to do this. Why I need to help those other boys in any way I can… I need to make up for all the shitty things I've done…"

 _For all of the times I behaved like Elena…_

"You're my everything, Ana," he gulped. "You're the love of my life."

The corners of her mouth rose into a barely-there smile. The sight made Christian's throat tighten. A small tear slipped from his eye and trickled down his cheek.

"Please don't leave me," he begged. "I know I fucked up. Just please, don't leave me… I can't lose you…"

A light moan escaped Ana's lips and to Christian's relief, it was a sound that was laced with fondness, not anguish or upset.

"I love you more than anything," Christian promised her. His tears started to come thick and fast, but he didn't have the urge to wipe them away. "I need you to know that I would never intentionally hurt you. I can't promise that I won't fuck up again because I probably will, but I would never hurt you on purpose…"

"Love you…"

Her voice was barely audible, but the words made Christian's heart twist deep inside his chest. He had heard Ana talk in her sleep a lot – she would often mutter things to herself, usually nonsensical things. But her words tonight were exactly what he needed to hear.

"I will make this up to you," he promised again. "Whatever it takes. I won't let you down again. I won't let anyone down… I'll find a way to put everything right. I'll do it for you, my sweet Ana."

He kissed her lips again before laying his head down on his pillow.

Ana was a just blur through his tears but Christian could have laid there all night, watching her sleep.

Sleep, food, money – it meant nothing to him anymore. Ana was the start and end of his world, and the thought of losing her through his own stupid behaviour was like taking a knife straight to his heart.


	15. Chapter Fourteen

**A/N: Hello Lovelies! I hope you're all doing well and having a great start to your weekend. Equally, I hope you enjoy this chapter! :)**

 **Please excuse any silly mistakes that have managed to sneak in despite my best efforts to wheedle them out... They shall be exterminated as soon as I can see the wood for trees again...**

 **More coming soon!**

 **Much Love,**

 **Chelsea x**

* * *

 **Reds77** \- Thank you! :) I completely agree with you, Christian is doing this to ease his own conscience. He thinks this will help him get over the guilt he's feeling, but we'll have to wait and see if it actually does help him... I hope you like this chapter! Much Love x

 **BK** \- Thank you! I really hope you like this chapter! Much Love x

 **DoloresDeeHowe** \- Thank you! It was a really emotional chapter for me to write and edit! Vulnerable Christian always makes me tear up. I hope you like this chapter! Much Love x

 **Susan** \- Thank you! Christian is definitely a true sweetheart. He only wants the best for people, but sometimes he doesn't know the best way to go about that. He's still learning. I hope you like this chapter! Much Love x

* * *

My eye lids slowly peeled open and to my relief the bedroom was still drenched in darkness.

I stretched out my arms and turned my head to the bedside counter. The alarm clock blinked 6:15am back at me. I let out a small groan. Fifteen minutes before it was due to go off…

Sitting up, I stared at the empty space next to me. I ran my fingers across the crumpled sheets and was surprised to feel them warm under my touch.

As if on cue, the bedroom door creaked open, a sliver of yellow light trickling across the carpet.

"Christian?"

He switched on the lights and I found his figure hovering in the doorway. I rubbed my eyes until the stinging dissipated and I was able to see him more clearly.

"Did I wake you?" he asked, an apologetic tone in his voice.

He was wearing a pair of dark sweatpants and a grey t-shirt, both crease-free and looking like he hadn't been wearing them for long. In his hands was a silver tray, piled high with food and two steaming cups. One black coffee, one English Breakfast tea. He set the tray down on the bed and carefully moved to sit in front of me, crossing his legs.

"I was trying to be quiet," he added with a frown. His eyes were red-rimmed and tired. "I wanted to bring you breakfast in bed."

"You didn't wake me," I shook my head. "You didn't need to bring me breakfast. I'm perfectly happy eating in the kitchen."

"I know you are, but I wanted to do this," he replied.

I looked over the tray and smiled. I picked a strawberry from a bowl of berries and popped it into my mouth. I chewed slowly and offered the bowl to him, holding it out towards his lap.

"It's for you," he shook his head, but I persisted. He relented with a nod and took a raspberry. "As generous as ever…"

His eyes darted around for a few moments, as if he was unable to look at me through fear of turning to stone if he did.

"Ana…"

I set the bowl down again and fussed over my tea, blowing steam from the top of the cup.

"About yesterday," he began in a shy voice. "The way I behaved was unacceptable. It was all me, I promise. It wasn't anything you did."

I raised my head and studied his face. It was contorting in a way that made my stomach tumble and twist. I could see clearly how painful he was finding this.

"I didn't even know you had messaged me," he added quickly, blurting out the words before I had chance to speak. "If I did, I would have replied, you know I would have. I was stupid to put my phone on silent. I should have known better."

"You really put it on silent?" I asked.

It wasn't that I was questioning him – I didn't think he was lying to me – but it still seemed so illogical. I couldn't imagine a situation that would require him to silence his phone.

Jesus, we have been in the throes of passion and I've heard the damn thing bleeping…

Though I'm quick to add that he's never answered it during those steamy moments!

He nodded his head and sighed.

"I was in a really important meeting and my phone kept going off," he explained. His brows lifted and he shook his head. "Not with your messages! This was before you had sent me anything, I swear… I was getting emails from HR and it was pissing me off. I had to concentrate on the meeting and I told myself I was going to switch it back afterwards but –"

"Christian –" I silenced him, raising my hand. I took a deep breath. "Slow down. If you talk any faster, you'll hyperventilate."

He fixed me with his stare and took a sharp inhalation. He blew it out slowly, the breath sounding shaky as it passed his lips.

"So, it wasn't me you were trying to avoid?"

"Never," he replied, shaking his head hard. "Ana, you should know I would never ignore you."

"Well, you hadn't replied and then when you came home…" I mumbled, my words trailing off. I sighed. "You weren't yourself when you came home last night."

"I know I wasn't and I'm really sorry," he gulped. He rubbed his fingers across his lips. "I shouldn't have taken it out on you. I was just so caught up in what happened yesterday that I couldn't focus on anything else."

My brows met in the middle of my forehead, my eyes narrowing. He let out a huff and raised his chin.

"My meeting yesterday," he hummed. "I got some news that I wasn't expecting and it was playing on my mind last night."

"What kind of news?"

"I've been trying to find someone," he explained in a low voice. "His name is Alexander Bradford. He used to own a company called Affinity Industries."

"I think I've heard of that before," I nodded. "It sounds familiar."

"It's one of the biggest companies here, in Seattle," Christian confirmed. "He sold the company a couple of years ago and since then he's been MIA."

"Why were you trying to find him?"

"I wanted to talk him about some stuff," he said, shrugging his shoulder. "But yesterday I found out he passed away. He was only twenty-two."

My jaw dropped.

"It came as a shock to me, as well," he nodded. "I figured he was just off-radar, I never thought he could be dead… The worst part is that he committed suicide."

"What?" I gasped. "Oh my god."

"Yeah," he mumbled, dropping his gaze to the space between us.

 _Suicide_ …

I inhaled a short breath and shook my head.

"Is that why you were upset?" I wondered. I hesitated for a moment, trying to best word my next question. "Did it… um, did it bring back memories for you?"

He lifted his eyes to mine and frowned.

"About what your birth mother did?"

He pursed his lips. "It brought a lot of feelings to the surface," he replied. "A lot of anger… That's part of the reason I went straight into my office when I came home. I was still very angry and I didn't want to be around you. I don't want you to see me when I'm like that."

I could understand his reasoning. In the past, when he had been angry in front of me and lost his temper, he felt embarrassed afterwards. He doesn't like who he is when he's angry. I'm not sure anyone likes him when he's in that kind of mood.

"And the other reason?" I prompted.

"He was married when he died," he explained. "And it turns out that his wife was pregnant, too."

"Shit," I shook my head. "That poor woman…"

"I was working with Taylor to see if we can find his wife," he added. "I want to pass on my condolences to her. See if there's any way I can help her or her daughter..."

He sucked in a breath, his shoulders pulling back as his chest rapidly inflated.

"I hate the idea of her or her child suffering," he groaned. "She's a young mother, widowed, probably struggling financially… I don't want history to repeat itself. My birth mother was an addict long before I was born, but she probably found life a lot harder after I arrived. I'm not assuming Alexander's wife is anything like my birth mother, but if I can stop her from falling into hardship then I'll do whatever I can."

His generosity never fails to bring a smile to my lips. For a man who was supposedly heartless, he has a great deal of care and love to share with the world.

"I lost track of time," he shook his head. "I thought I would only be in my office for an hour or two. I didn't plan or intend to ignore you last night, and I can't apologise enough. I should have read your messages."

"You didn't know about them," I reminded him, rolling my shoulder into a shrug. "You can't feel guilty if you didn't know."

"I should have read them when I came home, when I realised you had tried to contact me," he countered. "I really fucked up yesterday. If I'd read your messages, I'd have known you were having a bad day and that you needed me."

He huffed at himself, his jaw clenching.

"Damn it, if I'd read Ray's message, I could have avoided all of this!"

"Wait, what?" I jerked my head back. "Ray contacted you?"

"Yes," he confirmed. "He texted me."

"Why?"

"He wanted me to keep an eye on you," he explained. His throat bobbed and he licked his lips. "He was worried about you after your phone call with him."

Ray had contacted him after our call?

Had he told Christian why I was upset?

"He told me what happened with José," Christian said.

"Right…"

"He said you seemed upset after he spoke with you," he continued. He reached out and picked up my hands, cupping them between his palms. "Ray asked me to check on you… It was another fucking message I didn't read. Believe me, I couldn't feel any worse right now."

"I don't want you to feel bad about what happened," I whispered, shaking my head.

And it was true.

I didn't feel annoyed at him for being cold and detached last night. I didn't want to scream or shout in his face. I didn't want to see him crumble in front of me under the weight of guilt and frustration that was already tormenting him.

Because I had realised something last night…

"You needed me and I wasn't there," Christian grumbled. "You were already upset and I made you feel even worse. I should have known you needed to talk when I came home. It's my job to know these things, for fucks sake!"

"It's not your job to babysit me or to tiptoe around me or wrap me in cotton wool," I told him. I turned my palms over and clutched his fingers. "I can't expect you to drop everything because I'm having a bad moment."

"But I want to be there for you –"

"I'll admit that the way you were last night put me on edge," I confessed with a sigh. "When you said you were too distracted at work, I thought you meant because of me. I assumed I was the problem. That's just the way my brain works right now… I'm starting to get used to it, actually."

"What do you mean?"

"All of these feelings inside of me," I shook my head and grimaced. "All of this anxiety, it plays tricks with my head. It's making me paranoid. Every little thing that happens, I just assume that I'm the cause and to blame for it."

His face relaxed a little, his lips parting slightly.

"Last night, in amongst the paranoia, I think I realised that that's what I'm doing with José," I said. "My head is telling me that I'm completely to blame for what happened to him because this anxiety is trying to kick me while I'm already down… Does that make sense?"

"Kind of," he nodded slowly.

"I got into a tailspin last night because I let those feelings take over," I added. "I'm letting those thoughts win. Rhian has tried to explain it to me before but it hasn't sunk in until now… Even in those moments when that voice in my head is being cruel and snappy, I'm still in control. I can control that voice, I just don't know how to yet."

"Right," he hummed. He blinked twice. "And you realised all of this last night?"

"I think I always knew it," I shrugged. "I know I've been relying on you too much and don't try to tell me I'm not. I know how much you've sacrificed over the past few months – the work you must have put off or ignored in order to take care of me, times you've changed plans to suit my needs or mood. You have done so much for me."

"I love you," he said simply. "I would do anything for you."

"And I appreciate that more than anything, but it's time you stopped being my care-giver and returned to just being my boyfriend," I told him. "I've been selfish."

"You haven't –"

"Anxiety and depression, by nature, makes you selfish," I said. "It's not an intentional thing. It just consumes you and stops you from thinking outside of yourself. That's how Rhian described it to me… I've been depending on you. Too much."

"But –"

"You can't cure me," I told him, needing to say this out loud. "As much as we both want you to, you can't. If I'm going to get better, I have to learn to stand on my own two feet again. I realised that last night. I need to learn to deal with things again, instead of just running to you 24-7."

"So, you're just going to do it alone?" he frowned.

"No," I shook my head. I edged closer to him, pushing the sheets aside. "I'm not strong enough to go it alone, and I don't want to do this completely on my own… I had a really weird, confusing dream last night but it kind of made perfect sense."

"What was it?"

"I was statue," I muttered, recalling the details from the back of my mind. "I was standing there and pieces of me were flaking off and falling to the ground. I was really old and there were cracks all over my body. I was scared that I was going to completely fall apart."

He gripped my fingers, rolling his thumbs across my knuckles.

"Then you and Rhian appeared," I said. "You were standing on either side of me, holding me up. You were my scaffolding and you were both making sure nothing else broke off me. It worked. It stopped any more damage happening… But I knew that if you both walked away, I'd break again… I was begging you both to stay with me and then you said something."

"What?"

"You said the only way I would cope on my own is if I started repairing the damage, instead of trying to patch it up with a band-aid," I revealed. "You said that I was fixable, that I wasn't beyond help, I just needed to start making changes."

"I said all of those things?" he frowned, arching his brow.

"I know it's weird," I snorted, shaking my head. "You're different in my dreams."

"Sounds like it," he hummed. "So, after this dream, you realised that you need to start fixing yourself up? But, Ana, you're already in therapy."

"I know I am, but I've been going around in circles," I admitted. "Rhian is amazing but I haven't been putting in as much effort as I could have… I need to hit the ground running now. I don't want to be miserable and weak anymore. I don't want to cry every single day. It's bloody exhausting!"

His lips curled into a smile and he nodded his head.

"I still need you," I assured him. "I still need you on my side, supporting me. I'm not telling you to back off."

"But you need me to remind you that you can do this, instead of just telling you that I'll find a way to make things better?" he gathered. I nodded. He let out a hard sigh. "How is that I come in here to apologise and beg for your forgiveness, and you make it seem like I did you a favour by being a fucking asshole?"

I cracked a smile. "I guess you gave me the wake-up call I needed."

"But I was a prick," he shook his head. "I didn't put you first when I should have."

"You're allowed to be distracted by other things," I reminded him. "It's okay. It's _more than_ okay. You are more than just my boyfriend. You're a son and a brother. You're a world-renowned businessman, for god's sake. You can be all of those things at the same time, but there's going to be moments when one of them need to take precedence."

His frown hardened.

"What?"

"It's way too early in the morning for you to be making this much sense," he mumbled.

"I guess what I'm trying to say is that I realise now that I can't depend on you all the time," I said. I quickly held up my hands and added, "It's not because I can't trust you to be there, not in the slightest! It's just I realise now that you have other things going on in your life… More important things."

"Nothing is more important than you," he shot that idea down in an instant. He shook his head hard. "Ana, you're my world. I made you feel bad about yourself last night. I made you paranoid. I did those things."

"You had other things on your mind," I said. "It's okay."

"It's not okay," he sighed. He scrunched up his nose and shook his head again. "Will you just let me apologise and make it up to you? I don't want you to brush it off as nothing."

"Why not?"

"Because I was a first-class prick and I don't deserve to be forgiven so easily," he grumbled. "I promised you I would always put you first. I promised Ray that I would always look after you, that I would put your needs before my own."

"Ray asked that of you?" I frowned.

He nodded. "When he came here after the fire at Maîtrise. We talked and he made me promise that you would never come to harm again."

"And I haven't," I reminded him.

"He didn't mean just physical harm," he explained, lifting his gaze to meet mine. "I made a promise and I broke it. I'm not the kind of man who goes back on promises… At least, I'm not that man anymore."

"Christian," I muttered. I brought his hands up to my face and kissed each of his knuckles. "I'm not mad at you… I was confused last night, but I was never angry with you. And I don't think you broke any promises."

"I –"

"I'm not saying this just to make you feel better," I told him. "Admittedly, I don't like seeing you beating yourself up, but I genuinely mean what I'm saying right now. I needed a wake-up call. I needed a push in the right direction because I need to beat this."

"And you will," he said. "I know you will."

"But I didn't," I shook my head. "I didn't believe it and there's a part of me that still doesn't, but I need to give it a shot. I need to pull up my socks and get on with this, if I stand a chance of ever getting the old me back."

"You're not going to accept my apology, are you?" he arched his brow.

"I'll accept your apology for not having dinner with me last night," I nodded. "And for not coming to bed with me."

"I did come to bed," he quickly said with a nod. "I read your last message and came in here a few minutes later. You were already asleep."

"You were here all night?" I asked. He nodded. I lifted my right hand to my head, running my fingers across my scalp, remembering something. "Did you play with my hair?"

He smiled. "I couldn't sleep properly so I spent most of the night just watching you. I was twirling your hair around my fingers… It was soothing."

I watched as the smile slowly slipped off his face and was taken over by a grimace.

"It broke my heart to read your messages," he revealed. He gulped hard, his throat bobbing. "Knowing I had let you down."

"You haven't let me down," I shot back. I reached up and cupped my hands around his jaw, lifting his chin and forcing him to look me in the eye. "Christian, you have been absolutely incredible since the fire. You have been faultless, selfless and, frankly, the most patient person in the world. I know it's been hard work, having to hold me up when I'm on the brink of falling apart. I know it's not easy and I am so unbelievably grateful for everything you have done for me."

He held my gaze and I saw the corners of his eyes twitching, his grey irises glazing over slightly.

"I don't know many people who would go to the lengths you have to help me," I continued. "So, please, stop beating yourself up. I promise I'm not upset with you."

"You weren't the reason I was acting strange," he assured me in a low whisper.

"I know that now," I nodded. "I just got myself worked up into a frenzy last night… I need to learn to tune those thoughts out."

"It won't happen again," he said. "For a start, I'm never putting my fucking phone on silent again. And if I'm ever shutting you out, I want you to barge into my office or wherever the fuck I am and slap me around the face."

I started chuckling at him.

"I'm being serious," he frowned.

"I know you are," I smiled. "But you also know I'd never do that. Seriously, stop worrying over it. It's happened, I'm okay, let's just get on with our day."

He blew out his cheeks.

"I'm still going to make this up to you," he shook his head. "And I won't take no for an answer. I messed up, regardless of whether you will accept my apology or not."

I didn't argue with him. There was no point. I knew, hand on heart, he wouldn't give up until he had appeased his conscience. It was better to just ride it out and let him get on with it.

But I truly didn't feel the need for his apologies. I had received a very real kick-up-the-ass yesterday. For months I have professed that I want to get better, yet I haven't made any real effort to actually start that recovery process.

It's now or never. If I stand a chance of regaining the old Ana – daughter, friend, girlfriend – I need to be brave and face my demons.

I was about to say something when there was a rap on the door, jerking both of our eyes in that direction.

"That'll be Sawyer and Grande," Christian explained. I frowned at him. "I need to talk to them about yesterday."

"Why?"

"I should have picked up my phone but they should have alerted me or Taylor that you weren't feeling well," he said. He straightened back his shoulders and was about to move off the bed. "I need to remind them of their duties. They know the rules."

"Wait!" I urged him, clamping my hand down on his wrist. "Christian, don't. Please. Don't shout at them."

"It's in their contracts," he reminded me. "They must contact either me or Taylor if there is anything posing a direct threat to your safety or wellbeing."

He neglected to add that that was the only way in which he would allow Sawyer to come back to work for me. He wasn't pleased when I said I wanted Sawyer to return as my CPO.

"But it's also in their contracts to abide by my orders and requests, unless it would jeopardise my safety," I shot back, reciting the additional clause to him. "I told them not to call you. I made them promise."

"You did?" he frowned, his brows low around his eyes. He slumped his shoulders forward again. "Why?"

"I didn't want you to come charging in on your white horse," I explained. "I thought staying at work would help distract me. The last thing I wanted was for you to swoop in and carry me home because I had gotten upset. I made them promise not to call you behind my back. I wanted to be the one to make that call… or rather, to send that text."

The mention of my texts brought a wave of remorse to his face, his lips pursing together so hard they were starting to turn white.

"Jaz and Sawyer were just following my orders," I told him. "You can't punish them for that."

He let out a small huff.

"They did nothing wrong," I added.

"Sawyer should know better," he returned with a grumble. He still harboured a great deal of animosity towards the man. "I should have been told you were upset."

"You were, you just didn't read the message," I sighed. "Seriously, are we going to keep rehashing this? I really don't have time for this."

I started to wriggle towards the edge of the bed, wanting to get up and head into the bathroom, but he caught me by the elbow. He didn't say anything for a few moments, his fingers doing the talking as he gently massaged my skin.

"How bad was it?" he asked quietly. "Your reaction when Ray told you about José?"

"I cried," I shrugged. I swung my legs over the side of the bed and planted my feet into the carpet. "I forced Ray into telling me what he knew, but I didn't think it would be that bad."

Christian moved to my side and slid his arm around my back. I dropped my head onto his shoulder.

"I didn't panic like I did when I saw your ex-sub in Macy's," I shook my head. "I just felt really sad… It was kind of painful, hearing how much he's struggling."

"Ray told me what José did to himself, but did he say whether he's seeing a new therapist?"

"Ray thinks he is," I mumbled. "But clearly it's not helping."

"Well, he has only been at this new facility for a short while," Christian reasoned. "It'll take time for him to settle in."

"I know," I sighed. "I just want him to get better. He didn't deserve what that monster did to him."

"No, he didn't," he agreed with me. "And I understand why you feel so strong about him and his recovery. José was a huge part of your childhood."

"He is a good person, underneath all of that other stuff," I said. "He's just lost himself."

"I know," Christian hummed, though I doubted he truly understood what I was saying. "Listen, I'll put in a few calls, see if I can find out something from the rehab centre. They might be able to tell me how he is."

"I doubt they'll tell you anything," I shook my head. "It's patient confidentiality."

"I can be very persuasive," he whispered and pecked a kiss to the top of my head. "I'll do whatever I can."

"I know you will," I nodded. I turned into his side and hugged him tight. "I hate how so many people have been hurt by that woman."

"Me too," he muttered. He wrapped his arms around me and squeezed hard. "I hate it too."

* * *

I pushed my hands onto my hips and narrowed my eyes as I watched Christian unloading his things onto my desk.

"When you said you wanted to make it up to me, I didn't expect this," I shook my head at him. "Christian, you can't be serious?"

He gave me a quick smile and resumed his task. He unpacked his laptop and set it on the corner of my desk, carefully pushing aside my in-tray and the stack of paperwork I needed to attend to.

"My desk isn't big enough for the both of us," I told him.

"We'll make it work," he smiled sweetly, pulling up a chair.

After we had both gotten dressed for the day and were ready to head out of the apartment, Christian had mentioned the idea of him accompanying me to work. I thought he meant driving to me SIP, perhaps even walking me to my office and saying goodbye with a kiss, telling me he would pick me up later. I didn't for a second think he actually meant joining me for the day.

As in, working in my tiny office at my even tinier desk.

Naturally, I tried to dissuade him. But he was adamant. The man was not for turning.

We had driven to Grey House first, where we were greeted by Andrea. She gave Christian his laptop bag and a box packed full of files and paperwork. While I was worried about him having to rearrange whatever meetings he had planned for the day, it turned out that he actually had a mountain of admin that he needed to work through.

"It's a win-win situation," he had told me with a smirk. He lifted up the box. "I get to spend the day with you, and I get to catch up on all of this."

Arriving at SIP was unexpectedly smooth and problem-free. Christian stuck close to my side and was as charming as ever, exchanging greetings and small talk with my colleagues. As we reached my office, he confessed that he had called ahead and asked Mark if he could work from my office for the day. Christian had told Mark that his office was out-of-bounds and he needed somewhere else to work, my office obviously being the natural solution to the non-existent problem.

I don't think my boss believed him for a second but, equally, Mark would hardly turn down the opportunity to gawp at Christian all day long.

Jaz was ordered to stay downstairs with Sawyer, mostly due to the fact there wasn't enough room for all three of us in my office. Thankfully, Christian hadn't reprimanded either of them, but his disdain was clear as day as we got into the back of the SUV earlier. While Jaz and Sawyer were here to keep an eye on us, Taylor was given the day off to run some errands and have a much-needed rest.

"Christian, can I ask you something?" I said as I lowered myself into my chair and rolled it closer to my desk. He looked up from his laptop and nodded. "Why exactly are you here?"

"I told you, I want to make it up to you. I shut you out yesterday and I need to make amends for that."

"But I already told you it's fine."

"I want to make it up to you," he added with a shrug. "I knew you wouldn't take the day off, so here I am. You didn't get my attention yesterday. Today, I'm making sure you get me. All of me."

"You don't need to clear your conscience," I urged him. I reached across my desk and took his hand in mine. "There's no need. You explained why you were acting strange and I understand. Really, I do."

"You're too understanding," he shook his head and linked our fingers together. "I think most women would have screamed at me, thrown things, wanted to rip my balls off and feed them to dogs…"

"That's more Kate's style than mine," I smirked. "And I'm glad I'm not like most women. It's good to be different."

He nodded his head and rubbed his thumb against mine.

"So, why else are you here?" I asked him. "Come on, I know there's another reason… and I'm hoping it's not so you can check out my boss."

He let out a chuckle, his eyes crinkling as he laughed.

"Damn it, you got me," he winked. He shook his head. "Seriously, there's no other reason than the fact I want to be here with you. You had a bad day yesterday and I don't like the idea of you being on your own."

"I handled it as best as I could," I shrugged.

"And I'm proud of you," he said. "I'm in awe of you, Ana. Of everything you have already achieved and of everything I know you will achieve in the future. You're amazing."

My cheeks blushed under the weight of his compliments. He squeezed my fingers.

"You're my hero," he added in a whisper. He raised my hand and kissed the backs of my fingers. "I mean it, to have gotten this far after everything you've been through… I look at you and I'm in awe. There's no other way to describe it."

All I could do was smile at him.

"You're not getting rid of me. I'm going to be right here. All day long," he nodded to his space on the corner of my desk. "I won't make a noise. I won't be a nuisance, I promise. If you need to talk, you've got my full, undivided attention."

"You don't have to worry about me," I said. "Really, I'm okay."

"I'm always going to worry about you," he smiled. "You're the love of my life, asking me not to be concerned about you is like asking me not to breathe. It's impossible."

I felt the back of my eyes prickle.

"Just so you know, you're the love of my life too," I told him.

He pressed another kiss to my fingers before letting go of my hand.

I cleared my throat and rubbed my palms together.

"If you're going to stay here, there has to be some ground rules," I said firmly.

"Okay," he nodded and reeled back his shoulders. "Hit me with them."

"One – no swearing."

"Um, do you know who you're talking to?" he arched his brow.

"Exactly! Keep it to a minimum. If you need to let off steam, go outside and swear 'til your heart's content."

He sighed, agreeing to my request. "What else?"

"Two – you need to keep your hands to yourself." I stared at him, holding back a smirk as his eyes widened in immediate protest. "I'm serious. This a fumble-free zone. You're here to work, not to feel me up."

"Spoil sport," he huffed, shaking his head.

"It was your idea to turn this into 'bring your boyfriend to work day'," I shot back.

"What about lunch?"

"Lunch is at 12:30."

He rolled his eyes at me. "No, I mean what about during lunch? Can I feel you up then?"

"I'll think about it," I shrugged my shoulder, acting nonchalant.

"Any more rules I should know about?" he asked, his lips curling into a smirk.

"No, I think I've covered the essentials."

"Good. I have a rule I want to add to the list."

"My office, my rules. You don't get to add anything, Mr Grey," I shook my head at him.

"Relationships are all about compromise, Miss Steele," he retorted. He gave me a look that had me pressing my thighs together. "You said I can't touch you, which I will respect despite the great deal of pain it will give me. However, every time you walk past me, I'm going to shamelessly stare at your ass."

"You are, are you?" I laughed.

"You'll be counting down the minutes until lunch," he hummed. He dropped his eyes to his laptop and began typing something. "You'll be begging me to touch you."

I rubbed my lips together and let out a low sigh. I stared at my blank computer screen and saw my face burning up

It was going to be a long day…

"You know I'm right…" Christian sang quietly.

"We'll see about that," I muttered back, unconvincingly, my mind already awash with places we could sneak off to...


	16. Chapter Fifteen

**A/N: Hello you lovely bunch! I hope you're all having a great week so far.**

 **I had planned on uploading this chapter sooner but painful dental work has had me feeling sorry for myself and not in the mood to write/edit!**

 **I hope you enjoy this chapter. More coming soon!**

 **Much Love,**

 **Chelsea x**

* * *

 **BK** – Thank you! I'm really glad you liked the last chapter. I hope you enjoy this one too! Much Love x

 **Susan** – Thank you! I hope you enjoy this chapter! Much Love x

 **DoloresDeeHowe** – Thank you! I think Ana will pull through, it might take some time but she has all the tools to find her happiness again. I hope you like this chapter! Much Love x

 **SuzB** – Thank you! I'm really glad you liked it. Ana is definitely heading in the right direction now! Slow and steady wins the race! I hope you enjoy this chapter. Much Love x

 **Iamdbomangmail** – Thank you! There is always the chance that Christian keeping this from her could come back and bite him on the backside, but we can only hope that Ana will understand his reasoning. I hope you like this chapter! Much Love x

* * *

The following morning I woke before Christian, waking up to find him still deep in slumber and breathing heavily. I lay beside him for a long time, watching him sleep, enjoying a few stolen moments. I loved the way his chest rose and fell with each breath. It took all my reserve not to climb over him and kiss my way across his chest, soaking up every inch of his body.

I decided to let him sleep and dragged myself out of bed and into the bathroom. I stripped off and stepped into the shower, quickly scrubbing myself down and washing my hair.

I was mid-rinse when I heard the alarm clock trill, the sound ringing through to the bathroom for just a second before it was silenced. I waited under the hot water, a smile building on my lips, anticipating the emergence of a very naked Christian Grey.

I waited. And I waited. But he didn't come.

 _First time for everything, I suppose_ , the voice in my head giggled.

Knocking off the water and grabbing a towel, I padded out of the shower and headed back into the bedroom. Beads of water trickled down my face, sliding across the frown developing between my brows.

Our bedroom was filled with light, the blinds now open and displaying fresh, cloudless skies. Christian was sitting up against the headboard, his hands behind his head, his gaze fixed on the windows opposite.

"What are you doing?" I asked, drawing his attention to me.

"Just admiring the view," he said, his eyes raking over my body. A light smirk appeared on his lips. "And it's especially beautiful this morning."

I shook my head, unsure of what had come over him. He's not exactly grumpy in the mornings, but he's never this cheerful…

He beckoned me over to him, patting the space I had recently vacated. I shuffled over and sat down, pulling my hair forward so the excess water was soaked up by my towel and not our sheets.

His hand slid up my thigh, gently pulling my towel apart.

"I really enjoyed yesterday," he hummed. "Lunch was particularly exceptional."

I pressed my lips together, subduing the grin ready to tear my mouth apart.

I couldn't help but agree with him.

At first, I had been apprehensive about Christian coming to work with me, but I needn't have worried. He stuck to my rules - keeping his swearing to just a few choice words under his breath and, more miraculously, keeping his hands to himself. He also stuck to his rule of staring at my backside whenever I walked past him! _The fiend_.

We had barely made it to 12:30 before we were eager to tear at each other's clothing. Leaving Jaz and Sawyer in the lobby, we drove to an abandoned parking lot a few blocks away and tumbled into the back seat of the SUV…

I don't think I'll ever be able to look at that car again without grinning like a madwoman!

"We should do it again sometime," Christian smirked.

"What? Sex in the car or you coming to work with me?"

"Both," he winked. "Trust me, if I didn't have back-to-back meetings today, I'd be coming to work with you again."

"Not today you wouldn't," I shook my head, a slight grimace contorting my face. "It's my first board meeting this morning with the senior bosses. I have to give a presentation."

"It'll be fine," he told me, confidently. "You'll have them eating out of the palm of your hand."

"I don't like talking in front of a group of people," I confessed.

"Neither do I," he whispered, leaning closer to me. "Just do I do whenever I have to give a speech – don't rush it, because then you become tongue-tied, and remember to stare at their foreheads."

"Why would you stare at someone's forehead?"

"If you're nervous, looking someone in the eye can make you feel worse but, at the same time, you don't want to be glued to your notes and ignore the very people you want to impress… Staring at someone's forehead, just above their eyebrows, gives off the illusion that you're actually looking them in the eye."

"Who taught you that trick?"

"Carrick," he smirked. "He also taught me a fool-proof way to talk myself out of a speeding ticket."

"And how many speeding tickets have you needed to talk yourself out of?"

"Too many," he shamelessly admitted.

His fingers stroked the edge of my towel, creeping their way up to my chest.

I looked over his shoulder and checked the clock.

"We don't have time," I sighed, shaking my head. "I need to be in work for eight."

"We have plenty of time," he protested. He gripped the front of my towel and pulled me into his chest, his lips quickly finding mine. "We have more than enough time."

"I can't be late for work," I breathed, unable and unwilling to push him away. I found myself climbing on top of him, straddling his hips. "I mean it, Christian. I can't be late."

"You won't be," he purred, grinning up at me. His hands snatched my towel away and threw it across the room. He lowered his mouth to my breast and ran his tongue around the hardened peak of my nipple. "I'll drive you to work myself."

"You can have ten minutes," I moaned, gripping the hairs at the nape of his neck.

"Thirty," he bargained, grazing his teeth across my breasts. "I need at least thirty minutes with you…"

"Fifteen," I shot back. I tilted his chin up and stared into his eyes. "Not a second longer."

"You drive a hard bargain," he shook his head, narrowing his gaze at me. "This time I'll let you win, but don't get used to it…"

"I think you'll find I always win," I smirked. "You can't say no to me."

He growled back, knowing I was right.

With one seamless motion, he pinned me to his chest and flipped me onto my back. He forced my thighs apart and –

"I'm going to fuck you so hard, you won't be able to walk properly," he huffed into my ear. "Every move you make, you'll be reminded of what I'm about to do to you."

"Hurry up and do it then," I urged him, bringing my hips up to meet his. "I don't have all day…"

* * *

I sank back into my seat as the meeting was drawn to a close and people started vacating the room. I didn't realise just how much I had tensed up until I finally allowed my muscles to unclench, every inch of my body screaming with relief.

The board meeting had been marked in my calendar since my first day at SIP, I knew it was coming, but that didn't help settle my concerns about what to expect. When I had spoken to my colleagues, I had received mixed responses – some weren't fazed at all, others groaned and shook their heads. I knew that it was a chance for the bosses to express their distaste for ongoing projects and certain people within the company. Mark had explained to me that my predecessor had been on a watch-list for years, the bosses waiting for him to slip up so they could fire him. He somehow managed to keep his nose clean for five years, losing his job in late February for misusing company credit cards.

I was eager to make a good and lasting impression on the bosses. I had never met them before, Mark having been responsible for hiring me and reporting back on my progress. What if the bosses were annoyed that I had postponed my start date twice? What if they didn't like the fact my relationship with Christian was drawing in readerships, not the quality of the novels themselves? On top of this, I had to give a bloody presentation to them! I had to talk them through everything the rest of the team and I had been working on for the past three months. I could feel my palms sweating from the moment I walked into the room.

The actual presentation was a complete blur. I remembered standing up and sitting down again, everything in between absent from my mind. I had no idea what I'd said, whether I had talked too fast, if my skirt had been tucked into my panties the entire time –

I ran my hands down the back of my thighs and sighed, relieved to feel my skirt loose around my knees.

"You did a great job –"

Mark pulled up the chair next to me and sat down. He had a proud grin on his lips, his dimples tightly piercing his cheeks.

"I couldn't have done it better myself."

"I wish you had done it," I huffed, shaking my head. "I really hate presentations."

"So do I," he snorted. "Why do you think I made you do it?"

I shot him a stern look, which only served to rouse a chuckle from his chest.

"You handled it really well," he told me. "I was able to grab a second with Mr Savidge before he left. He was impressed."

"He was?" I gasped, my brows shooting up my forehead.

Mark had told me that Mr Savidge – President of SIP - was the hardest person to please. _Savidge by name, savage by nature_ …

"He'll give us a full report later in the week, but he said he is happy with how we're doing and doesn't have any major concerns," Mark explained, nodding his head. "I've been doing some rough calculations and our numbers are up on last year's figures. Almost double, in fact… The first week sales for _A Breath of Fresh Eyre_ have exceeded all of our expectations. Historical novels are notoriously difficult to sell but you managed it, kid."

"I'm sure a lot of it was thanks to Christian," I admitted with a shrug. "Most of the people who came to the launch were only there to see him."

"And?" Mark shook his head. "No one here cares why people are buying books, so long as people are actually buying them. As much as we all want to publish amazing books, it's still a numbers game. If profits are up, we can invest in more authors, in more projects, and that makes everyone happy… so you can stop fretting now."

My shoulders dropped forward and I gave him a soft smile.

"You survived your first grilling," Mark winked. "Come on, let's go celebrate in my office with coffee and chocolate."

"Make mine a cup of tea and I'm in," I nodded eagerly, packing up my things.

While Mark headed to the kitchen to make our drinks, I went straight to his office and sat down at his desk. I had just settled into my chair when my phone pinged.

I glimpsed Christian's name in the notification box illuminating my screen.

 **Meet me for lunch in 30 minutes? C x**

 _Okay. Shall I come to GEH? x_

 **No, I'll come to you. Meet you in reception. C x**

"Here you go. One cup of Twinings English Breakfast –" Mark sang, skirting around me to set my cup down on the desk. He moved around to his chair and sat down with a huff. "Now, can I interest you in dark, milk or white chocolate?"

He opened up the top drawer of his desk, showing me the contents. I shook my head at the selection he had to offer. The drawer was almost overflowing with candy bars.

"I think we need to start calling you Willy Wonka," I laughed. "I'll take a Butterfinger, please."

He passed me the bar and took out a packet of Dove Kisses for himself.

"I can't help it. Chocolate is my kryptonite," he mumbled, sinking into his chair with a sated moan. "I can't live without the stuff… I have to keep it here. I'm not allowed it at home."

"Why?"

"Harry's a health freak," he rolled his eyes at the mention of his boyfriend. "It's all about broccoli and kale in our house… I'm not complaining, he's got a body to die for and I definitely reap the benefits from it, but a man needs a little treat every now and then."

"Some people might say having a model boyfriend is a treat in itself," I retorted.

"Tell me Christian fusses over what you eat? Tell me he's on some crazy ass diet, only eating lean meats and drinking protein shakes?"

"Kind of the opposite," I shook my head, smiling at my boss's disappointment. "He is a little fussy about food, but he eats whatever he wants. And he doesn't care what I eat either, just so long as I'm not skipping meals… If anything, I think he'd like to fatten me up."

"He's bloody perfect, isn't he?" Mark grimaced. "I hate you."

I peeled back the wrapper on my Butterfinger and took a bite, stemming the laugh building in my chest.

"How long have you two been together?" Mark asked.

"About four months," I hummed. "We started seeing each other just after Valentine's Day."

"Wow, I never would have guessed," he shook his head, his dark brows lifting in surprise. "Looking at the two of you together, I'd have guessed you'd been an item for years."

I felt my cheeks warming. "It feels like we've always been together," I admitted. "There are times I can't even remember what life was like before I met him."

"That's true love for you," he nodded back. He licked the pad of his thumb. "As much as I rib Harry and moan about him, I know he's the one for me. If the thought of spending a single day without them causes you pain, you know that person is your soulmate."

I didn't like thinking about life without Christian. It was beyond painful. I would rather take a knife to my heart than lose him.

"I've seen the way he looks at you," Mark added. "Christian. The way he stares at you, it's like something out of a movie. It's like he only has eyes for you."

"I know," I smiled.

"Shame," Mark huffed. "I would have a field day with him…"

"You wouldn't be able to keep up with him," I shot back. "Not with the amount of chocolate you're knocking back!"

"I bet he can go all night long, can't he? He's a marathon man, huh?"

I sat back in my chair and smirked at him, taking another bite of my candy bar.

Mark let out a heavy groan and threw his head back against his chair.

* * *

I descended the stairwell, my eyes immediately falling on my Marathon Man. He was leaning against the opposite wall, scrolling through his phone.

"Hey –" I called out as I made my way to him.

Christian jerked his head up and grinned at me, quickly shutting down his phone and shoving it deep into his pocket.

"Hey, baby," he purred. He peeled himself from the wall and caught me in his arms, drawing me into his chest. "I missed you."

"I can tell," I whispered into his ear, feeling something hard pressing into my stomach.

The right side of his mouth rose into a smirk, his grey eyes narrowing as he stared down at me. He hovered over my lips, teasing me, before he finally granted me a kiss. I melted into his touch.

"How was your presentation?" he asked, leaning his head back to study my face. He tucked my hair behind my ears. "Did it go well?"

"Seems like it did," I nodded with a light smile. "I'm glad it's over, though… How was your morning?"

"Long," he sighed. He gestured to the door. "Shall we go?"

He caught my hand in his and led me towards the exit, holding the door open for me to head outside first. Sawyer and Jaz followed behind, keeping their distance. I could tell they were still wary of Christian after his cold demeanour towards them yesterday.

Christian escorted me to the SUV waiting in front of us, Taylor already behind the wheel. As I climbed into the back seat, I couldn't help but giggle to myself, a warm buzz building in my stomach as I thought about what we had done on these seats…

"Don't forget to buckle up," Christian breathed, leaning into me as he settled into his seat. "We wouldn't want you sliding over and falling into my lap, would we?"

"Never," I mumbled, biting down on my lip.

Once Christian and I had buckled our seat belts, Taylor pulled the car away from the sidewalk. I looked in the rear-view mirror and saw the other SUV tailing behind us.

"Where are you taking me for lunch?" I asked, turning my chin to Christian.

"I thought we could go back to The Mile High Club," he replied. "You liked it there, didn't you?"

"Yeah, it was really nice," I nodded.

"Good," he smiled. His eyes twinkled as he fixed me with his stare. "But first, I'm taking you shopping."

"Shopping?" I repeated, my brows pinching together.

"Yes. Shopping."

"Why?"

"Because I want to buy you something," he said, shrugging his shoulder.

"Can I ask what you want to buy me?"

He grinned at me and nodded.

"A car," he announced. My eyes widened and caused him to break into a laugh. "It's time you got back on the road."

* * *

Christian had devised a list of various dealerships we could visit, but it came as no surprise when Taylor took us to Audi first. I rolled my eyes as we drove onto the lot and I glimpsed those infamous circles looped together.

"You don't have to pick an Audi," Christian assured me as we stepped out of the car. "I just happen to think they're the best cars on the market. But if you don't like anything here, we can go somewhere else."

"Is it still my choice?" I wondered. When we had discussed me getting a new car a week ago, he had told me I would have the final say.

He nodded and took me by the hand. "I only care that it is safe and reliable. Everything else is up to you, baby."

We started walking through the many rows of shiny cars, only managing to bypass the attention of the salespeople for a few moments before they all came running towards us. The man who beat the others to reach our side first was in his mid-thirties, dressed in a black three-piece suit, and had a grin that almost blinded me when he peeled back his lips to speak.

He recognised Christian instantly.

"Ready for another upgrade, Mr Grey?" the salesman chuckled.

"We're here to find a car for my girlfriend," Christian explained, pulling me into his side.

"Excellent," the salesman nodded. He stretched out his hand and shook mine with such vigour I thought he'd pull my arm right out of its socket. "Would you mind if I made a few recommendations?"

"Sure," I hummed.

Gripping Christian's hand, we moved from car to car, taking a minute to assess each option before, inevitably, I shook my head and wanted to move onto the next. Nothing jumped out at me, nothing seemed just right. One was too big, one was too clunky, in another the seats didn't feel comfortable and the wheel felt strange…

I was starting to feel like Goldilocks.

Christian wasn't fazed by my reactions, reassuring me that he wanted me to be happy with my choice, whether it took us all day to find a car or not. But the Cheshire Cat was starting to crack under my indifference to his suggestions. Every 'no' made his smile drop a little lower.

"Perhaps we could check out the sports models?" he offered, pointing to a row of cars near the main building.

I followed him over to the first car lined up and that was when I felt it. That magnetic pull that drew me straight over to the hood, my fingers tracing the glistening paintwork. I knew immediately that this was the one. It was slim in design, slightly rounded on the top and sleek all around. It had two doors and was relatively low to the ground, brilliant white in colour, making it stand out from the rest of the pack.

I bent forward and looked inside, examining the interior. Popping open the door, I sat down behind the wheel and smiled as my fingers curled around the wheel.

"You like this one?" Christian observed, resting his elbow on the door.

"I really like this one," I grinned.

"The TT Coupé is a very popular choice with our customers," the Cheshire Cat explained, quickly materialising at Christian's side. "This is actually the latest model. It was only launched in April of this year."

I looked up at Christian, holding his stare for a second.

"If you want it, it's yours," he smirked, nodding his head. He turned to the salesman and asked about the specifics of the model.

"It is an incredibly reliable choice," the salesman confirmed. "It is fast, but it handles bends smoothly and without trouble. The standard package includes built-in sound system and navigation, as well as heated seats and dual-controlled air conditioning."

"Warranty?"

"For you, sir, ten years as standard," he grinned back at Christian. "Would you like to test drive it before we start processing the paperwork?"

"No need," I shook my head. "I already know I'll like it."

Christian smiled to himself and helped me out of the car, advising the salesman to lead us inside the offices.

We were shown into a side room, the salesman rushing over to his chair and firing up his computer before I could change my mind.

I sat beside Christian and gave his hand a tight squeeze, mouthing 'thank you' to him.

The salesman swung his monitor around so we could check the details he had inputted. I let Christian read the fine print and give the final nod of approval.

"I want you to include the same interior design I chose for my upgraded R8," he told the salesman. "And we want a custom plate."

"What would you like it to read?"

Christian glanced at me, prompting me to make a decision.

"I have my initials," he reminded me. "You could always use yours?"

"Erm, I don't think ARS would be appropriate," I shook my head at him. "It looks too much like 'arse'."

"What about ANA?" he suggested. "ANA 910?"

"Okay," I nodded. "Let's go with that."

"You sure?"

"Christian, I really don't care that much," I laughed, shaking my head. "If you think ANA is good, we'll go with that. I trust your opinion."

His eyes creased as he grinned at my final comment.

"That's all done," the salesman announced. "All we need to settle now is the colour. Would you like to stay with the ivory, Miss Steele?"

"Am I able to choose a different colour?" I asked. "A specific shade?"

"Absolutely," he nodded. He fiddled with his mouse and brought up a separate screen, showing a colour wheel. He slid the mouse towards me. "You can select whatever colour you like. This is a true likeness, so what you select today will be the exact shade of the car when it's delivered to you."

"Great," I said, sitting forward to make my choice.

"While you decide, I'll collect the paperwork from the printer," he declared, rising from his seat and leaving the room.

I swirled the cursor around the screen until I found the exact shade I wanted. Black was too harsh for me and blue would only remind me of dear old Wanda… and red was absolutely out of the question!

No, I chose my favourite shade of grey. The colour of clouds before a storm, thick with the promise of thunder and rainfall. It was the colour I most looked forward to seeing first thing in the morning, staring back at me from the pillow next to mine.

"Are you sure that's the colour you want?" Christian checked, frowning at the screen.

"Don't you like it?"

"No, it's nice," he shook his head. "I just thought you would go with something brighter, that's all… I didn't think you liked my monochrome style."

"Well, I don't usually, but this is my new favourite colour," I smirked.

I waited to see if he would figure it out, and broke into a laugh when he didn't.

"What am I missing?" he sighed.

"When was the last time you looked in the mirror?" I giggled. I pointed at the box displaying my choice. "Christian, that's your eye colour."

"And that's your new favourite colour?"

I nodded my head.

"That's strange," he shook his head again. "Someone asked me the other day what my favourite colour is and I said it's blue. A cross between sky blue and cornflower."

"Must mean we're in tune with each other," I smirked.

"Or we need to get out more and see other people," he retorted, winking at me. He reached across and slid his hand over my knee, giving it a tight squeeze.

We were interrupted by the salesman, returning with a stack of papers ready for us to sign. I scribbled my name on the dotted line, signing for complete ownership of the car, while Christian agreed to cover the payment and delivery costs. He had whipped out his wallet and removed his card before the Cheshire Cat even asked for it, handing the plastic over without quarrel.

"The TT with the additional interior upholstery and customised colour," he read off the screen. "It comes to a total of $84,000."

"Fine," Christian nodded.

"I'm sorry, it's how much?" I gasped, my eyes and mouth flying open.

Eighty-four thousand dollars.

What the f-

Christian punched his PIN into the card reader and the transaction was over in seconds, much to the salesman's relief and my shock.

"Delivery is an estimated three to five weeks," he grinned at us both, holding out his hand again. "It's been a pleasure doing business with you today."

* * *

Three minutes later, we were exiting the offices and slowly making our way back to Taylor and the SUV. My shoes were scraping against the concrete, my skin tingling at the bottom of my spine, where Christian was resting his hand.

"Time to grab some lunch," he told me.

When I didn't reply, he shot me a look and frowned hard. He came to an abrupt stop, spinning to face me.

"Don't even go there, Ana," he ordered. "I know what you're thinking and you need to get that thought out of your head."

I pursed my lips.

"I mean it," he said gruffly. "I told you I would buy you a car. It wasn't up for debate."

"But that's a lot of money," I mumbled. My fingers toyed with the hem of my blouse, fiddling with a loose thread. "I didn't think it would cost _that_ much."

"It isn't that much in the grand scheme of things," he shook his head. "I make way more than that in a single day. After taxes."

"I know you do, but it's…" I trailed off into a sigh. "Christian, I just need to know that you're okay with spending that much money on me. That you're doing it because you want to, not because you feel like you have to."

He stepped forward, bridging the gap between us. His fingers fished through my hair, massaging the nape of my neck.

"I don't want your money," I continued. "None of that matters to me."

"I know," he smiled. "Ana, I know… and that's exactly why I want to share it with you. I want to share every part of my life with you, including my money."

"I –"

"What's mine is yours," he spoke over me. "Whether it's eighty-four cents or eighty-four million dollars, you can have it all. I want us to be equals."

My cheeks starting to burn and the back of my throat began to close up.

"I know what your VW meant to you. It was a constant reminder of Ray," he added, lowering his voice to a whisper. "And I saw how it made you feel, when it was taken away from you. If buying you a new car helps to ease some of the pain it caused you, then it's money well spent."

Something flickered across his eyes and it spun a thought in my mind. I narrowed my gaze at him.

"You feel guilty about what happened to Wanda, don't you?" I asked, but I already knew the answer.

"It happened in my garage," he shrugged. "It happened because that woman was trying to keep her filthy claws in me… But guilt plays just a small part in my feelings, Ana. I didn't like seeing you upset. That's the simple truth of the matter. I would rather go ten rounds with Mike Tyson than to see you look like that again, to see the anguish in your eyes when you saw what those bastards did to your car."

I pushed my arms through the gaps of his and hooked them in the small of his back. I leaned into his chest and buried my face between his pectorals.

"I would do anything for you," he muttered. "I'll give you whatever you want. You only ever have to ask."

"Promise you'll love me forever?" I whispered.

"That's a given," he snorted. He pressed a kiss to my crown and gently eased my head back, so he could look into my eyes. "Stop worrying about the money. I thought we were moving past that."

"We are," I sighed. I shook my head. "Old habits die hard, I guess… Thank you. I really do appreciate this."

"You're welcome," he smirked. He brought his lips to mine and gave me a deep, slow kiss. "This is just another next step in moving on from what happened," he breathed. "I know it's scary letting go of the past."

"Wanda served me well," I nodded. "But it's time to let go."

"Elliot's listed it for auction," he revealed to me. "It's a vintage car in relatively good condition. It should fetch a decent price."

Wanda's worth and value didn't equate to money for me. It was weighed in the memories I had – the pride on Ray's face when I drove her for the first time, around the block outside his house; me and Kate going on late night runs for junk food and wine; Christian coming to my rescue when she broke down and I was stranded…

That particular night had changed things for us. That was the night I realised he wouldn't – _couldn't_ – just walk away from me.

Christian held me for a moment longer, his fingers weaving their way across my scalp, until he pulled his left hand free and reached down into his pocket.

"I was going to give this to you later," he said. He dug deep into his pocket and pulled out something small and shiny. "I thought maybe you could put your new keys on it."

He held up the keyring for me to see, hanging it off his index finger.

My heart thumped into my throat as I studied the miniature, pastel-blue VW Beetle swinging back and forth. An exact replica of Wanda.

"I saw it as we were heading from GEH to your building earlier," he explained. "They were selling them at a kiosk. It caught my eye and I told Taylor to stop the car. I thought it might make a nice gift."

I slipped the keyring off his finger and held it in the palm of my hand, setting the car the right way up.

"It's lame, I know, but I -"

"It's perfect," I shook my head. I tore my eyes away from the keyring and stared up at him. A grimace had morphed itself over his lips. "I love it. Really, it's perfect."

I lifted up onto my toes and threw my arms around his shoulders. I smacked my lips to his, my hands clasping his neck and keeping him in place as I kissed him hard.

I couldn't remember the last time I had thought about Wanda and not felt an incurable sadness knotting in my gut. But right now, holding the mini Wanda in my hand, none of those feelings resurfaced. I felt comforted by Christian's gesture, by his gift of a different Wanda that those monsters could never destroy. My happy memories restored and contained within just a few inches of plastic.

And, suddenly, I realised I didn't feel quite as broken as I have in recent months.

"What are you smiling about?" Christian asked, pulling his lips from mine.

I stared into his eyes, losing myself in his swirling pools of charcoal and slate.

"I'm just feeling very lucky right now," I muttered, shaking my head. "I have the best boyfriend in the world."

The corner of his mouth rose again.

"Well, my girlfriend is the most incredible woman I've ever yet."

"Is she?"

"She's absolutely stunning," he nodded. He planted a light kiss on my lips. "Beautiful inside and out… and she's fucking amazing in bed. She could make me come with just a single look!"

A snort blasted out of my mouth and I threw my head back with a roaring laugh.

"And she finds me hilarious, which can only be a good thing," he joked. "Come on, Chuckles, let's go grab some lunch. I don't know about you but I'm starving."

"Me too," I nodded. "And not just for food…"


	17. Chapter Sixteen

**A/N: Hello my lovelies! I hope you're have a relaxing weekend.**

 **I hope you enjoy this chapter. I found myself going a bit gooey-eyed at one part in particular... I do love the occasional sweet moment! :)**

 **More coming soon!**

 **Much Love,**

 **Chelsea xx**

* * *

 **Lavendarjade** – Thank you! I'm really glad you liked the last chapter. I'm always so eager to upload the chapter that I do sometimes miss the odd mistake, but it's great to hear that you don't mind them. :) I hope you like this chapter! Much Love x

 **SuzB** – Thank you! Ana is one lucky girl to have a man like Christian in her life. We all love him so much. I hope you like this chapter! Much Love x

 **Reds77** – Thank you! Haha, no, you don't need to worry about Mark. I promise he is an angel, he doesn't have a bad bone in his body! :) I'm really glad you liked the last chapter! I bet they were giving everyone a thrill with their PDA! I hope you enjoy this chapter too. Much Love x

* * *

Friday arrived and so did my next appointment with Rhian.

I expected to become anxious in the lead up to our session, like I have previously. Therapy is exhausting, there is no hiding that, but I went into today's session feeling somewhat optimistic.

I was ready to take my head out of the sand.

Rhian had called me last night to move our appointment to earlier in the day, explaining that she needs to take the twins to a birthday party after they finish school. I was happy to see her first thing in the morning, before work, thinking it was best to get it out of the way so I could carry on with my day stress-free. I arrived at her house at 7:45am, bringing with me some pastries from a bakery I stopped at before driving over.

I glanced across the room as I sipped the remainder of my tea, waiting for Rhian to return from answering the telephone. We had conducted our session in her lounge, Rhian needing to keep an eye on Harriet who was home from pre-school with a bad case of the sniffles.

I didn't mind Harriet being there. It actually made a nice change, if I'm honest. The air was full of calmness and ease with her in the room with us. And we didn't have to worry about her overhearing anything because she wasn't listening to us at all.

Harriet was perfectly well-behaved, laying on the floor in front of the television, her feet swinging back and forth as she delved into her own little world. She was busy drawing something, occasionally looking up at the TV and the colourful kids show playing out in front of her.

Intrigued by the array of crayons scattered around her, I stood up and walked over to her. I crouched down at her side, glancing over her shoulder to check out her drawing.

Sensing me there, Harriet jerked her head up and fixed me with her enormous blue eyes. Her dark hair had been pulled back into a ponytail, swinging as she gazed up at me.

"Do you like it?" she asked, her nose blocked and making her voice sound muffled.

"It looks amazing," I nodded to her. I rubbed her dainty shoulder. "What is it?"

"A cat," she smiled. I looked back at the doodle and could just make out its feline features, in spite of the fact it was lime green with yellow spots. "I like cats… Do you have a cat?"

"No, I don't," I shook my head. "I don't have any pets."

"I want a cat but Daddy said no," she grimaced, fluffing out her bottom lip and looking for a moment like she might burst into tears.

"Well, maybe if you keep drawing beautiful kitties like that, your daddy might change his mind," I whispered to her, her eyes twinkling up at me. "You're such a good artist, Harriet. I wish I could draw like you."

"I have paper," she announced, showing me her stack of blank pages, all ready to be plastered with her wild imagination. "You can use my crayons."

"Thank you, but I need to finish talking to your mommy," I told her. "Maybe next time I come over we can do some drawing together?"

She seemed content with that, nodding her head and returning to her picture. I ran my fingers across her shoulder once more before rising to my feet, just as Rhian came back into the room.

"Sorry about that," she huffed, blowing her black fringe out of her eyes. She returned to the couch we had been sitting on, flopping down into the cushions and taking a gulp of her near-cold tea. "It was John's mother… I swear she calls here a hundred times a day!"

I walked back to the couch and sat down, placing my empty cup onto the coffee table.

"Does she live here or in England?" I asked.

"Here," Rhian said. "His whole family moved out here a few years ago, just before Harriet was born. My family is back in Ireland."

"You must miss them," I observed.

"It gives us a reason to go back to my motherland," she grinned, drawing upon a positive. "I am sorry for the interruption, though."

"It's fine," I shrugged my shoulder, brushing it off. I glanced down at my phone, pressing the home button to check the time. "I need to head to work soon anyway."

Rhian smiled and inhaled a deep breath as she checked over the notes she had been making throughout our session. She licked her lips and nodded.

"We were talking about the incident in Macy's, at the weekend?" she muttered. I nodded my head. "I certainly sounded like you had a panic attack."

"I figured as much," I hummed. "I've had a couple before. I had Googled it and I assumed it was anxiety."

"Why didn't you tell me about them before?" she asked. Her voice was as gentle as ever, not a hint of disappointment in her tone.

"I guess I didn't want to admit just how much I was struggling," I shook my head. "I know, it's ridiculous. There's nothing wrong with admitting that you need help. I know that…"

"What's triggered them before?" she wondered, choosing not to dwell on my reasons for not confiding in her before. Rhian was a fan of keeping the conversation flowing, instead of letting silences drag out. "Do you know what it is that upsets you and causes that kind of reaction?"

"Anything that reminds me of the fire," I nodded. I pressed my lips together for a second and then sighed. "Smells, sounds, seeing pictures of fires… But on Saturday, it was seeing one of Christian's _old friends_ that triggered it."

I shot a glance to Harriet, carefully monitoring my words to protect her innocent ears.

Rhian nodded, understanding what I meant. She knew about Christian's preferences and past. I had shared it with her during our first session together, having been given permission from Christian to tell her. He didn't mind me telling her, not one iota.

"What was it about seeing her, do you know?" she asked. "Did it make you think of Leila?"

"Yeah… I thought she was Leila, they looked so similar. And then I was right back there, in the club, strapped to the chair and…"

"You're safe," Rhian told me, leaning forward to squeeze my hand. I held her gaze and she smiled at me. "No one can hurt you now."

I gulped.

"I thought of _her_ ," I admitted. "That was what scared me the most. I could hear her voice in my head."

"Elena?"

I shuddered at the sound of her name, an ice-cold blast shooting down my spine.

"Sorry," Rhian apologised, holding up her hand in defence. "I know you don't like hearing her name… When you feel like you're back in the club, is it the feeling of being trapped that scares you? Is it the fire? Or is it the thought of that woman being near you again?"

"What do you mean?"

"Thinking back to that day, in the club, what was the thing that scared you the most? In that very moment?"

"I thought she was going to kill me," I muttered. "I thought I'd never see Christian again… I thought she was going to win."

"And when you see or hear things that make you think of that day, is she always there? Is she always in the background of the panic you feel?"

"Yes," I nodded. I narrowed my eyes at her. "Wait a minute, so you… Oh my god."

"What is it?" Rhian pressed. The corner of her lips started to twitch into what appeared to be a soft smile. "What have you just realised?"

"I'm scared of her, aren't I?"

Rhian raised her brows in silent confirmation.

"I thought I was scared of being trapped again but… I already know that's never going to happen. It can't happen again. The club doesn't exist anymore. It's gone. They're both gone."

"So, what are you actually scared of?" she asked.

"The things she did to me," I slowly nodded. "What she planned on doing to me… I'm scared of what could have happened, if Christian hadn't turned up when he did."

I slumped into the cushions behind me and let out a long, deep breath.

Why hadn't I realised this before? Why am I only grasping this now?

It's always been her.

Everything always comes back to her and what she did.

"Ana, what you experienced that day is enough to terrify anyone," Rhian said, bringing me out of my thoughts. "But I've always suspected that at the heart of this is what that woman did to you. Not the fire. Not being trapped and unable to escape. It's always been her because you know the lengths she was prepared to go to. Your fear was real and justified in that moment."

"But she's dead now," I shook my head. "Why am I still scared of her?"

"Have you ever heard the saying that if you tell someone you're fine, you're far from it?" she asked. "That the word 'fine' actually stands for 'freaked out, insecure, neurotic and emotional'?"

"Isn't that from The Italian Job?"

"It is," she nodded. "And I agree with that sentiment. No one ever says they're fine – they say they're great, feeling good, happy. Fine is an empty word. And so is 'fear'."

"Fear?"

"I want you to try and remember what 'fear' stands for," she said. "False Evidence Appearing Real… Your fear now is based on what happened in that moment, back in April. You need to keep reminding yourself that what happened before can never happen again. It's impossible. You said so yourself, she's dead. She can't cause you any more physical harm. She doesn't pose a threat to you or your happiness anymore."

"I keep telling myself that. Everyone keeps reminding me that it's over, that I'm safe now, but –"

"At the moment you find it hard to believe?" she guessed. I nodded. "That's normal. It'll take time for you to accept that and to believe it. In the meantime, you just need to hold onto what everyone is telling you. No one is lying to you, Ana. What we're saying is true and one day you will believe us."

I took a deep breath and let her sentiments absorb.

"Why didn't I react in the same way when I heard about José harming himself?" I wondered. "Why didn't I have a panic attack then?"

"Did you think of the fire when you thought about him?"

"No," I shook my head. "No, I didn't."

"Did you think of the club?"

I shook my head again.

"Did you feel scared?"

"No…"

"What did you feel?"

"Sad," I replied. "Like I wanted nothing more than to rush to his side and hug him, stop him from hurting himself again."

"So, would you say that you were overrun by concern and not fear?" she hummed. I squinted at her. "The emotion you were feeling was concern for his safety and wellbeing, not fear. Am I right?"

"I guess…"

"You didn't have a chance to panic because you were overwhelmed with concern for José," she continued, making sense of my tangled thoughts and confusion. "The brain is a very complex organ, but when it comes to emotions it's really rather simplistic. The brain can only handle one extreme emotion at a time. It doesn't have the capacity to feel both joy and anger, it can't let you feel concerned - _protective_ – of someone else and fearful for your own safety."

"One cancels out the other?"

"Kind of," she nodded. "Think of it this way – you're driving down the street and you're listening to music. When you're completely focused on what's happening on the road, you can 'listen' to five songs and not have heard a single word of the lyrics. It's only when you stop the car that you realise you've missed a whole CD's worth of songs. It's because you've zoned out, you're concentrating on something more important. Everything else is dimmed and becomes background noise. It's still there, but you don't notice it. It's only when you concentrate on it, that it becomes front and centre."

"So, my fear of _her_ is always in the back of my mind somewhere?" I assumed. "It's only when I'm reminded of it, that it comes to the surface?"

"Exactly," Rhian nodded. "What we need to work on is finding ways for you to think about her without panicking. We'll find something that works for you, we'll get you to that point, I promise."

"I need to learn to block her out?"

"Not block her out," she shook her head. "But learn to live with the white noise and not be scared of it. It's just a case of retraining your brain. We can start doing some CBT, if you like? We've talked about that before, haven't we?"

"Yeah," I nodded.

She had mentioned cognitive behavioural therapy months ago. At the time, I didn't really care, didn't have a clue what I wanted from our sessions together. But now I hummed in agreement with her suggestions, ready to give it a shot.

I was ready to do anything to give myself a chance to move on from this endless circle of feeling okay and then crashing back to earth seconds later.

"Let's do it," I smiled to her. "CBT or whatever else you think might work."

"You're sure?"

"I want to beat this," I said defiantly. "As much as I'd rather forget about her altogether, I'd like to hear her name and not feel like my insides are being ripped out… I want to get on with my life without needing someone holding my hand all the time."

Rhian's eyes creased, lifting up in the corners, as a wide grin spread over her mouth.

"What?" I shook my head. "Why are you grinning at me?"

"Because I have been waiting to hear that," she sang, pride emanating from her. It made my skin tingle, a warm sensation building in the centre of my chest. "What you just said, that tells me that you're getting better. That you're already starting to heal."

"It does?"

"It tells me that you have already made the biggest, hardest step in your recovery," she nodded. "Accepting that you need to try new things, that you need to step outside of your comfort zone, that is a huge step for someone who has undergone a traumatic event."

"I know that I can't keep running away, expecting it to just disappear," I replied.

"I'm so proud of you," she beamed. "We've still got a long road to walk down, but we're moving forward. One step at a time… and we're doing it together. Okay? You're not alone in any of this."

"I know," I smiled back at her, nodding my head. "Christian is always telling me that. I know I can rely on you both, but I want to get to a point where I don't need to. I want to stand on my own two feet again."

"It is possible," she reminded me, a point she has often reiterated during our sessions. "I'm not giving up on you and I don't want you to give up on yourself, either. You're not a lost cause. Far from it."

"It's going to be a lot of hard work though, isn't it?" I guessed.

"If you really want something and you're determined to get it, it shouldn't matter how difficult the journey is," she shrugged her shoulders. "I have some audio clips I will email to you. Visualisations, breathing techniques – they all come under the mindfulness stuff I was telling you about earlier. They're good to listen to when you're on-the-go, a lot of people find them useful. I listen to them myself, they really help me to relax."

I thanked her in advance, making a promise to myself to listen to them. Rhian had talked me through 'mindfulness' earlier, telling me that it's a way to reset the brain. She showed me ways to control my breathing and stop my mind from running away from me.

I think we both know that that is my main problem. I let my thoughts spiral out of control and then I end up in a state.

"I should probably get out of your hair," I announced, checking my phone again. "I don't want to be late for work."

I was about to push off the couch when Harriet sprang to her feet and rushed over to us. She almost tripped over her crayons, desperate to show off her artwork. Her pink pyjamas were slightly too long in the legs, even though the hems had been turned up several times and were hanging thick around her tiny feet.

I couldn't help but smile. She looked cute as a button.

"I finished it!" she declared, holding up the picture for both of us to see. Her enthusiasm brought on a coughing fit, Rhian leaning forward to pat her upper back. "Mummy, I finished my picture."

"I can see," Rhian nodded. "It looks lovely, sweetheart."

Harriet turned her watery eyes to me, pushing the drawing closer to my face. Alongside her giant green-and-yellow cat, she had drawn two stick figures with grins on their round faces.

"It's really beautiful," I nodded.

"You can have it," Harriet said, dropping the picture onto my lap.

"Me? You want me to have it?" I checked, surprise making my voice go squeaky.

She nodded her head and rocked on her heels.

"I drawed you and Christian with my cat," she told me. She stepped forward and reached over the top of the page to point at the stick figures. "That's you!"

I was the lucky recipient of purple ringlets and a yellow and black dress, making me resemble a bumble bee.

"Is that Christian?" I asked, pointing to the other figure. She nodded proudly. "I love his hair!"

"Will you take it home?" she asked me, her small fingers starting to fiddle with the fleecy material of her pyjamas. "Will you show Christian?"

"Of course I will!" I grinned. "I know he'll love it just as much as I do… Thank you so much."

Her pink lips split into a toothy grin.

Without saying another word, Harriet set her hands on my knees and climbed up onto my lap. She wrapped her arms around my neck, clinging onto me as she gave me the tightest hug she could manage. She dropped her chin onto my shoulder, her wheezy breaths loud in my ear.

"Thank you," I whispered to her.

I smoothed my hands up and down her back, enjoying the smell of cookies and wax crayons oozing from her. I closed my eyes, squeezing them shut, feeling the backs starting to sting with happy tears.

I could understand why Christian was so taken with Harriet. From the first time I had seen him interacting with her, I knew she had stolen a small piece of his heart. Her innocent, simple gestures could melt the heart of even the most hard-faced person. She saw the world in the way a four-year-old should – colourful, happy and pure.

Harriet didn't shift from my lap and I didn't ease her away. I don't think she will ever realise just how much that hug meant to me or how incredible it made me feel afterwards.

* * *

I made it to my desk with seconds to spare, although Mark didn't seem to mind me cutting it fine. He sauntered into my office before I had chance to take off my jacket, holding up a steaming cup of tea.

"Because I'm such a nice person," he grinned, setting the cup down on my desk. "And because I'm _the_ best boss in the world."

"You are, can't disagree with you there," I nodded, smirking back at him. "I'm sensing there's another reason why, though?"

Mark held up his hands and let out a small chuckle.

"Guilty," he sighed. "I need you to jump on the Mendes book. I know crime-thriller isn't your forte, but I really need someone to give it a read through and check for any plot holes. It's a novella, so it shouldn't take too long…"

"No problem," I nodded. "Send over the file and I'll make a start on it this morning."

"Are you sure?" he checked, raising one of his perfectly shaped brows. I nodded again. "That's why I hired you! You're a star. If you were a foot taller, I'd kiss you!"

"You'd only kiss me if my name was Christian," I shot back with a wink.

Mark blew me a kiss as he left my office, leaving me to get comfortable and ready for the day ahead. Jaz joined me a few minutes later, taking up her usual position in the corner of the room.

I opened up my emails and downloaded the file, opening up the prologue and reading the first few lines. Gruesome was the only way to describe it, the story beginning with a murder scene. I wasn't a particular fan of horror or crime stories, but I suppose that would make me an even more critical reader? Maybe I wouldn't miss someone that others might? I guess it makes me more impartial…

As I read through the unfolding horror and brutality, I took the time to practice some of the breathing tips Rhian talked me through earlier. I could feel my heart rate starting to rise, so now was as good a time as any to test the techniques.

 _Inhale as deep as you can, counting to four._

 _Exhale slowly for the count of eight._

 _Breathe in through your mouth and out through your nose, reversing the usual pattern to confuse your brain into calming down._

Rhian had also mentioned something called 'grounding' – ways to bring yourself back into the present, focusing on what is happening around you in that moment, instead of fixating on something in the past. She recommended reading something out loud, counting the objects around me, trying to find five different colours or textures or smells…

I could feel my heart rate plummeting and a smile worked its way over my lips.

My focus was broken by the phone on my desk blaring loudly, startling both me and Jaz. I reached across and checked the caller ID before lifting the receiver. I didn't recognise the number.

"Anastasia Steele, Seattle Independent Publishers," I answered.

"Fuck, I love the sound of your phone voice. It's so sexy –"

Christian's words were thick and deep in my ear, his natural vibrato sending a shiver down my spine.

"What are you doing?" I giggled. I spun my chair around, turning my back on Jaz to stop her from seeing the blush in my cheeks. "Why didn't you call my cell?"

"I didn't want you to get into trouble for answering personal calls at work," he replied. "I'm calling from my desk. If anyone asks, this is a business call."

"I'm not sure SIP is interested in the kind of business you're proposing," I said, biting down my lip. "Sir…"

"Don't make me come down there," he purred. "I wanted to check in and find out how your session with Rhian went."

"It was good," I hummed. "Really good, actually. Probably the best session I've ever had."

"That's amazing," he breathed. I could practically hear the smile on his lips. "Oh, Ana, that's fucking brilliant. I'm so happy for you... Damn it, I wish I could have driven you there myself."

"It's fine, you had to meet Ros," I shook my head, pressing the receiver into the crook of my shoulder, my fingers toying with the coiled wire. "How did it go? Your meeting with her?"

"It was productive," he confirmed. "She had some good news to share from Berlin, there's nothing to worry about over there."

"That's good," I hummed. I pursed my lips for a moment. "Have you heard back from that woman yet?"

"What woman?"

"The wife of that man, Alexander something?"

Christian had told me over lunch yesterday that he had managed to find an email address for the man's widow. He had sent her an email, offering his condolences to her and her daughter. He had shown me the email after he had sent it. It was a polite message full of kind words. Nothing too imposing, nothing too intrusive.

"No, I haven't had a reply," he said with a disappointed sigh.

"Maybe she hasn't checked her emails yet?" I suggested.

"Or maybe my message went straight to the junk folder," he retorted. "I don't know if I'll hear back from her. I'm a total stranger."

I hoped for his sake that the wife did reply to his message. It had really disturbed Christian to learn of Alexander's suicide, but more so to learn that he had left behind two people who would need a lot of support in the wake of his death. I could tell it was bothering Christian – the idea of this man's widow struggling and in desperate need to help.

Even a simple 'thank you, we're doing fine' would help ease Christian's conscience.

There was a gentle pause on the line.

"Oh –" he blurted. I heard his chair rolling across the marbled floor of his office. "Hang on a second –"

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing, I've just had an email. Let me check –"

"Is it her?"

Christian huffed.

"No. It's Gia Matteo."

"The designer?"

"Yes," he huffed again. I heard him rapidly clicking his computer mouse. "She's had a cancellation. She says she can see us tonight, if we're free."

"Tonight?" I repeated. "Do we have plans for tonight?"

Christian paused before answering me. I assumed he was reading the rest of her email.

"No, I didn't have anything planned," he finally answered. "Well, except for spending the night with my head between your thighs… I guess I can postpone that for a few hours. Do you want me to tell Gia we can see her tonight?"

"It would be nice to kick start the renovations," I admitted. "I'm looking forward to making the apartment feel homelier."

"Me too," he replied. "I know you've been worried about how I'll react to the changes, but I really am excited about this."

"You are?"

"I can't wait to make Escala our home," he announced. "Truly ours… Since you moved in, I've realised just how empty the apartment is. It lacks personality. It's –"

"Kind of dull?"

He croaked a laugh from deep within his throat.

"Yes, it's dull," he chuckled. "Escala used to be the place I ran to when I needed to escape everything else. I'd lock myself away for days at a time, hiding from everyone around me. I don't need that anymore."

"It can still be your escape," I reminded him. "It's still your home."

"Ana," he sighed my name, a laugh still tickling his voice. "I don't need Escala to be my hideaway anymore because I'm not running away from anything… I don't need to run away because I've found the one thing I was looking for."

"You have?"

"I found you," he whispered. I felt my chest swell and tingle. "And I'm ready to make Escala our home… which reminds me, I need to bring home the paperwork for you to sign."

"What paperwork?" I questioned, my brows pulling together.

"The deeds to the apartment," he replied. "I've had my attorney draw up the paperwork, to put your name on the deeds."

"What?"

"As soon as you sign it, half of the apartment will be yours," he explained as simply as he could, sounding the words out carefully. "Half yours, half mine. The way it should be."

"But we're not… I mean, shouldn't that sort of thing happen after you get mar –"

"What's mine is yours," he interrupted. "Equals, remember."

It was overwhelming to say the least. I sucked in a sharp breath, words temporarily failing me.

"So, I'll tell Gia to come over around 7pm. Is that okay?"

"Uh-huh…"

He began laughing again, the throaty sound echoing down the line.

"I don't know why you're so shocked," he snorted. "You're telling me you didn't see this coming?"

"No, I…"

"I'd sign over my life to you. You know I would."

"It's just so…" I shook my head and slouched down into my chair, my body sagging like a deflated balloon. "You've just bought me a car – a really bloody expensive car, for crying out loud. Now you're giving me half of your apartment?"

"Your point is?"

I ribbed my bottom lip between my teeth.

"I don't have anything of value to share with you," I muttered.

"You're sharing your life with me," he shot back. "Ana, that is more than enough. Trust me."

If I wasn't at work, I would have burst into tears there and then. He has a way with words, a way of snapping me in half and rendering me speechless.

"Are you still there?" he whispered into the silence.

"Yeah… I'm here," I gulped.

"I really love you."

"I love you too," I hummed, slowly nodding my head. "Christian?"

"Yes?"

"You really need to warn me if you're going to say stuff like that," I told him. "I'm not wearing waterproof mascara."

"Just speaking from my heart," he said, undoubtedly smiling from ear to ear. "I'll let you get on with the rest of your day now. Can't be taking up all of your time, can I?"

"Definitely not," I smiled. "I'll see you later?"

"Already counting down the minutes," he replied before blowing a kiss down the line and ending the call.

I held the receiver to my chest and let out a heavy sigh. I twisted my chair towards the window, my eyes falling on Grey House.

 _That man will be the death of me… God, I love him. So fucking much._


	18. Chapter Seventeen

**A/N: Hello my lovelies! I hope you're having a great weekend? :)**

 **We're back in Christian's POV for this chapter. I hope you're enjoying reading chapters from his perspective and seeing what it is that he's getting up to. I really like adding in his perspective!**

 **I know some of you were excited to read the Gia/Ana meeting but you'll have to wait until the next chapter for that - Christian has to meet someone important first!**

 **I hope you like this chapter. More coming soon!**

 **Much Love,**

 **Chelsea xx**

* * *

 **SuzB** – Thank you! I'm really glad you liked the last chapter. :) Ana is making good progress, fingers crossed she finds the road to recovery easier than it has been! I hope you enjoy this chapter. Much Love x

 **Reds77** – Thank you! :) I'm glad you liked Ana's session with Rhian. I really enjoy writing those type of scenes. As for Harriet – my goodness, that little girl could melt anyone's heart! Hopefully Christian will like her drawing! I hope you enjoy this chapter. Much Love x

 **DoloresDeeHowe** – Thank you! I love romantic Christian too! I really hope you enjoy this chapter. Much Love x

 **Susan** – Thank you! I'm really glad you enjoyed catching up, but please don't ever apologise for not reviewing! I never expect a review but they are always very gratefully received. :) I hope you enjoy this chapter! Much Love x

* * *

 **CHRISTIAN**

"Seven is absolutely perfect for me," Gia Matteo purred, her voice too breathy, her words slow and deliberate. "I'll see you tonight."

Christian quickly ended the call, dropping his phone onto his desk with a huff. He thought about calling her straight back and cancelling, knowing what would unfold during their meeting tonight.

Gia was going to be a nuisance, he was sure of it now. She was bound to overstep the mark.

 _I'll put her in her place,_ he told himself. _She needs to back off, once and for all._

It wasn't that Gia wanted Christian. Not really. She just wanted to crack him. She saw him as a challenge to beat.

 _Over. My. Dead. Fucking. Body._

 _I wouldn't touch her if she was the last woman on earth!_

Gia flirted with every man she encountered, whether she was genuinely attracted to them or not. It was just a game to her. As if she was constantly seeking an ego boost. She would flirt and then move on, riding on the buzz it gave her when a man looked her up and down.

There had only ever been one man Gia really wanted. More than anything. His surname _was_ Grey, but it wasn't Christian. Gia desperately clung onto any hope of a relationship with Elliot, at every turn ready to rekindle whatever spark they had previously shared. No matter how fleeting or burnt out.

 _I hope to fuck Elliot has seen sense. He deserves better than the likes of Gia Matteo._

As much as it annoys Christian, the way Gia behaves around him, he couldn't fault her skills as a designer. She was good at her job and would stop at nothing to fulfil her client's every want and desire. It was the reason Christian continued to hire her. He had been impressed by Gia's portfolio when she first presented it to him, shortly after she first began dating Elliot and discovered that Christian wanted to redecorate his office at Grey House. She had talent, he gave her credit for that. It was just a shame her idea of catching Elliot's eye was by going through his brother…

A part of Christian was looking forward to the meeting with Gia – not just to make a start on changing Escala from his hideout to his home, but because it was another chance to show off Ana as his significant other.

He loved to introduce her to people, loved to show people that she was his. He was proud of her, proud of being her boyfriend.

With a smile from thinking about Ana, Christian rolled his chair back towards his desk and brought his computer to life. He had a busy morning planned, his first meeting due to start in thirty minutes.

He briefly glanced through his emails, seeing that fifty had been delivered to his inbox in the last five minutes alone. Scanning the list, his eyes honed in on one email in particular.

Sandwiched between a message from Ros and Andrea was an email from an 'E REED'.

Christian's heart jumped into his throat as he opened the email, his pulse quickening as he realised that it was definitely from Emily Reed. Alexander Bradford's widow.

He didn't think she would reply, least of all this quickly. He had only reached out to her yesterday, after getting her email address through Taylor, courtesy of his amateur sleuth skills. In his email to Emily, Christian had kept things simple. He passed on his condolences and asked if, one day, she would like to talk. He had told her he wanted to pass on his condolences in person.

Her response caught him off guard.

* * *

 **To: Christian Grey**

 **From: E REED**

 **Date: 15 June 2012 09:25**

 **Subject: Condolences on your loss**

Dear Christian,

Thank you for your kind words.

I'm sorry to say that Alex never mentioned you to me, but I do know who you are. Did you do business with him when he took over his dad's company? I know he only had the company for a little while.

It would be nice to meet with you. I would like to hear how you knew Alex. However, I'm a bit short on time at the moment. I know it's a long shot, but are you free today? Around noon? Don't worry if you can't make it. I know you must be very busy.

Thanks again for your message.

Best wishes,

Emily

* * *

 _She wants to meet me._

 _Fuck._

Christian inhaled a sharp breath. He pressed his fingers to his lips, hesitating, worry making his brow twitch.

He tried to remind himself that this is what he wanted, what he asked for. He needed to see her in person. He couldn't offer her help over the phone or via email. It had to be done face-to-face.

But the reality of actually meeting her today was unnerving. He liked to prepare for things like this, give himself time to work out what he wanted to say, rehearse answers to questions he would be asked.

With a gulp, Christian reached for his phone and dialled line one. It was answered within seconds.

"Yes, sir?" Andrea hummed.

"Check my schedule," he ordered. "Is there anything I can cancel and rearrange for next week?"

Andrea was silent for a second, just the sound of rapid clicking on her end of the call.

"I can rearrange your appointments with Sanchez, Miguel, and the MRT group," she replied. More clicking. "But Mr Khan is due to arrive shortly, I'm not sure if I can –"

"Okay," Christian cut her off with a sigh. He pinched the bridge of his nose while he thought of a solution. "Right. I'll meet with Khan when he arrives, but I'll need to keep it short. Fit him in for a second meeting on Monday morning."

"Yes, sir," she said. "Oh… You also have a conference call scheduled for 2pm with the MD of TellWorks."

"Fuck," he groaned.

He had been trying to secure that deal for weeks. It was a guaranteed money-maker.

"See if you can push the call to 5pm. I should be back by then."

"Back? Are you heading somewhere, sir?"

"Yes. Vancouver."

"British Columbia?" she checked. He hummed his response. "Shall I have your jet prepared?"

"I need it ready within the hour," he replied. "Can you send Taylor through? I need to talk to him."

"Of course. Anything else, sir?"

"No," he grunted. He squeezed his eyes shut. "Andrea?"

"Yes?"

"Thank you."

Christian dropped the receiver back onto its holder and waited for Taylor to emerge. He came into the office moments later, not bothering to knock first but purposefully closing the door behind him to ensure their privacy. His hands hung at his sides, his expression as unreadable as ever.

"Emily Reed just emailed me," Christian announced, cutting to the chase. He gestured for Taylor to take a seat opposite him, which he did immediately. "She wants to meet me today."

"Today?" Taylor frowned. "Is she here or -?"

"We're flying to Vancouver," Christian explained abruptly. "Andrea is calling to have the jet prepared for us. We'll leave as soon as I wrap up my first meeting."

"Okay."

"I'll need you to collect my passport. It's in –"

"Your safe," Taylor interrupted. He gave Christian a gentle quirk of a smile. "I'll sort everything out… Are we flying straight back afterwards?"

Christian nodded.

Taylor was relieved to hear that. He had been looking forward to spending some quality time with Gail tonight, just the two of them, no distractions.

"I've just emailed her back to confirm. She said she wanted to know how I knew him, so I said I knew his father," Christian replied. "It's true. I did know his father. Timothy Bradford was one of the finest businessmen I've met."

Taylor pursed his lips. That aggravated Christian.

"Look, I'm not going to pretend like I knew Alexander and I'm not planning on mentioning Elena to her. You can stop worrying about that."

Taylor's shoulders dropped, relief washing over him.

"I don't know if she knows about Elena or not, so I'm not going to even approach the subject with her," Christian elaborated. "All I want is to find out how she's coping."

"What's the plan? Walk in, offer her some help and then leave?" Taylor wondered. He was the type of man who needed a plan, needed to know exactly what was going to happen and when. "You have to be careful with this sort of thing. No one likes it when a stranger rolls up and throws money in their face."

"I know that," Christian sighed, shaking his head.

 _Does he know who I'm dating? Jesus Christ, Ana hates it when I want to give her money or gifts…_

"But I have to at least make the offer," he added. "I'll read the situation and see how best to approach the topic with her. I'll figure something out."

Taylor pressed his lips together and slowly nodded his head, despite his reservations. He would always support Christian and whatever decision he makes, but Taylor still thought it was crazy to potentially bring further anguish to a woman whose life had already been turned upside down.

But, equally, he understood Christian's motives. He understood the need to right a wrong, regardless of whether it was his responsibility or not. When he had first learnt about the notebook and realised that she had hurt other children, Taylor wanted to wring Elena's neck. There was a fire that burned deep within Taylor, a rage against anyone who thought to harm a child.

With a sigh, Taylor unclenched his fists and rubbed his palms against his thighs.

"Anything you need, you know I'll sort it," he said gruffly. "Let's make sure Emily and her daughter are as safe and secure as possible."

Christian gave him a grateful smile, the corners of his grey eyes creasing slightly.

"I'll collect our passports and make sure Andrea has arranged everything," Taylor confirmed, rising from his chair and already heading for the door. Before he reached for the handle, he turned back to stare at Christian. "Can you please do me a favour?"

"What?"

"Don't leave the building while I'm gone?" he pleaded, arching his heavy brow.

"Okay," Christian nodded, reclining back into his chair. He let out a hard sigh, sounding like a scolded teenager. "I won't leave."

Taylor thanked him before exiting the office and closing the door again in his wake.

Even Christian was guilty of shaking off his security detail. Taylor had lost count of the number of times Christian had disappeared, only to turn up an hour later in his sweats and red in the face, having been for a run around the block. Every time he saw Christian was gone, Taylor's blood pressure crept a little higher.

* * *

The plane thrusted into the air, gaining height for a short while before banking.

Christian frowned as the change in pressure made his ear pop. He always hated it when that happened. Even after years of flying all over the world, cabin pressure still wreaked havoc with his hearing.

Maybe one day he would remember Grace's advice and purchase some gum before getting on a plane…

Taylor shifted in his seat and turned to face his boss. He studied Christian's face for a few moments, seeing the way he opened and closed his mouth, his finger jabbing at his left ear.

"It'll pass in a minute or two," Taylor told him. "Try pinching your nose and blowing hard. That normally does the trick for me."

Christian did as he suggested and he sank back into his seat as his hearing returned.

"Thanks," he sighed. "Did you call ahead and arrange for a car to pick us up from the airport?"

"Yes."

"Good."

Christian fidgeted, his palms running up and down his thighs. He couldn't sit still. Hadn't been able to since they left Grey House.

"Can I ask you something?" Taylor blurted, narrowing his eyes at Christian. "Does Ana know what we're doing?"

"I'll tell her tonight," Christian shook his head. "After work."

"Have you told her about the notebook yet?"

Christian jerked his head to Taylor and frowned, wondering if that was meant to be a rhetorical question.

"Of course I haven't," he snapped.

"I just don't want this to blow up in your face," Taylor said, holding up his palms in defence. "The longer you leave it, the harder it'll become to tell her the truth."

"That's why I've started laying the groundwork," Christian nodded. He understood where Taylor was coming from, what he was trying to protect him from. "I've already told her about Alexander. She knows who he is and that he's dead, and that I'm now trying to help his family. I've told her as much as I could without mentioning Elena… I'm slowly feeding information to her."

"That sounds like a good idea," Taylor agreed.

"The last thing I want is to just spring this on her," he added. "I don't want to push her over the edge."

"But you do still plan on telling her everything at some point?"

Christian nodded his head and dropped his eyes to the floor. He exhaled a shaky breath.

"In my shoes, would you do the same as me?" he asked Taylor, his voice strained and tense. "If you knew something that would hurt Gail – if you knew it would destroy her – could you tell her straight off the bat? Could you break her heart?"

He slowly returned his eyes to Taylor's and witnessed the sombre expression that had consumed his companion's face.

"That's the only reason I can't tell her about this right now," Christian continued. "Not while she's still this fragile… She's had a good couple of days, but I'm waiting for the next downer to hit her. We've gone through this before. She's perfectly fine one minute and then she's falling apart the next."

"And you don't want to be the one to bring her down again," Taylor gathered. Christian nodded. "I understand. Really, I do… I couldn't do that to Gail. Not if I knew it'd upset her."

"Flynn, Kate, you – you've all told me to just tell Ana and get it out in the open," he grumbled. "But it's not that simple. I've fought long and hard to keep Ana in my life, I can't risk losing her. I just can't."

"Have you thought about the possibility of her finding this out for herself?"

"The only way she'd work it out is if she found the notebook," Christian hummed. "She's seen me with it a couple of times and I know she'll start asking questions if she sees it again. I've locked it in the safe."

"Does she have access to the safe?"

Christian shook his head. "The combination is her birthday, it wouldn't take her long to guess that, but she doesn't know where the safe is."

Silence stretched out between them.

"I know you care about her and you don't want to see her upset," Christian said, pursing his lips a little. "But that's what I'm trying to avoid by keeping this from her."

"I care about you," Taylor corrected him. "I don't want to see you getting hurt if something goes wrong."

Christian raised his head and found himself frowning at Taylor.

"I care about Ana too," Taylor snorted. "It goes without saying. She's a great girl. You really lucked out when you met her."

"Tell me about it," Christian shook his head. "She's way out of my league."

* * *

The flight to Vancouver was short and trouble-free, Christian and Taylor soon rushing down the steps of the plane and climbing into the back of the waiting SUV. The driver was quiet and kept his head forward, focusing only on the job at hand. Christian preferred it when people didn't stare at him. He hated feeling like an animal in a cage.

Taylor passed the driver a note with Emily's address on it. The car propelled forward and led them away from the airport.

Christian slumped down into his seat, his head lolling back against the rest.

"She has a baby," he sighed.

Taylor narrowed his eyes and shot Christian a glance. "We already know that…" he muttered. "According to the article, the baby should be about six months old."

"Right…"

"Is there a problem?"

Christian pursed his lips and stared blankly at the back of the driver's head.

"What kind of stuff do kids that age need?" he wondered.

"What don't they need!" Taylor snorted, shaking his head. "The list is endless. Clothes because they grow out of everything at a ridiculous rate. They need more diapers than you could ever think possible. Toys… Why?"

Christian's eyes widened, a look of horror passing through them.

"They need that much stuff?"

"That's just the tip of the iceberg," Taylor warned him. "Having a baby isn't a walk in the park. It's hard work. It was really tough when Sophie was a baby and there were two of us looking after her… I can't imagine how difficult it is to raise a child on your own."

"I don't want to turn up empty-handed," Christian explained. "I want to buy them something. Something nice."

"You're hardly turning up empty-handed," Taylor reminded him.

And it was true.

Before they had left for SeaTac, Christian had called a number of different stores in Vancouver. He had done a quick Google search for places that sold baby related items. Snuggle Bugz, West Coast Kids, Lusso… He hadn't heard of any of them before, but they seemed like good places to start with. He had spoken to each of the stores' managers and set up accounts in Emily's name. She would be able to buy whatever she wanted and all charges would go to him. She wouldn't need to worry about the money – whatever she wanted, Christian would pick up the bill.

He had even called a few clothing and grocery stores, in case Emily needed help with food or refreshing her own wardrobe.

"Do you think I should buy some flowers?"

"I'd guess she's probably sick of the sight of flowers," Taylor shook his head. "Everyone sends flowers when there's been a death in the family. It's stupid really, flowers die and just remind you of the fact you've already lost someone."

"I can't arrive without something to give her," Christian huffed.

His frustration echoed throughout the car, causing Taylor's shoulders to creep up to his ears.

Taylor hesitated for a moment, biting the inside of his cheek as he racked his mind. It felt like a lifetime had passed since Sophie was a baby. He could hardly remember her still wearing diapers and unable to answer him back.

 _What did Sophie love when she was little?_ he thought to himself.

"I think I have an idea," Taylor declared with a nod. He checked his watch. "We have enough time before we need to head over to her house."

"Thank you," Christian sighed. He reached across and patted Taylor's elbow. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

"Lucky for you, you'll never have to find out," Taylor muttered before telling the driver they needed to make a pitstop.

* * *

Stepping up onto the cobbled porch outside the dilapidated house in front of him, Christian studied the large box he was carrying.

Taylor had chosen well, picking out an activity gym for Emily's daughter. He had suggested the least garish out of the many styles on display. It featured a range of activities to keep any young mind occupied – an abacus, teething rings, stuffed woodland creatures hanging down and waiting to be grabbed and pulled. Taylor knew from his own experience that it was better to choose something simple and lightweight, better still if it was collapsible too. He had explained this to Christian but it seemed to go in through one ear and straight out of the other. Christian was completely out of his depth in the store, looking confused and lost. He didn't know where to look when they passed the breast pumps.

"No wonder she's moving," Taylor hummed to himself, staring up at the property. The windows were aged and dirty on the outside, the brickwork crumbling in places. "The online listing said it needed remodelling, but I didn't think it was this bad."

Christian sucked in a sharp breath and rapped his knuckles on the wooden door, taking a step back while he waited for it to open.

His pulse thumped in his temples as the door rattled and slowly creaked open.

"Hello," he said, clearing his throat.

He forced a smile on his lips and awkwardly balanced the box so he could extend a hand to the woman standing in front of him.

She was petite, probably no more than 5ft 2", and terribly thin. Her collarbones were jutting through her pale skin, visible above the neckline of her oversized t-shirt. Her hair was scraped back into a bun, light blonde tendrils falling around her gaunt face. She looked nothing like the woman in photograph in the article. This woman was half the size of the blushing bride he had expected to see.

"You must be Christian," she nodded, returning his smile. She shook his hand, her fingers cold to touch. "It's nice to meet you. I'm Emily… Please, come in."

Emily stepped aside and opened the door fully, allowing Christian and Taylor to slip into the darkened hallway. Christian felt like he was walking into a vacuum, the air around him tight and heavy.

Closing the door again, Emily skirted around the two men and led them down the hall and into the lounge. The room was packed high with cardboard boxes, furniture turned up on its end.

"I'm sorry about the mess," she apologised, her voice taking on a shaky note. She pointed to the green couch lined against the back wall, the only seat available in the room. "Erm, please, sit down –"

Christian shared a glance with Taylor and then moved over to the couch. He set the activity gym on the floor and sat down, unbuttoning his jacket as he did so.

Taylor hovered next to him, preferring to remain on his feet.

"Can I get you a drink?" Emily asked, looking between them.

"No, thank you," they replied in unison.

"Have you had to travel far?" she worried, her brows pulling together in the middle of her forehead.

"We flew in from Seattle," Christian nodded.

"What?" she gasped, quickly shaking her head. "Oh my god, I'm so sorry. I had no idea you were down there. I just assumed you… I wouldn't have suggested you come here today if –"

"It's fine," Christian interrupted, holding up his hand to silence her. "It's nice to get out of the office."

Emily's throat bobbed.

Christian gave her another quick smile. His eyes started to scan the room, taking in the boxes.

"It looks like you've been busy," he said.

"Yeah," Emily sighed. She crossed her arms around her chest. "I'm moving in a few days. It's all a bit crazy here at the moment. I –"

She was interrupted by a high-pitched scream, the sound making Christian jump.

Emily huffed and shook her head before quickly retreating from the room. She was gone for just a few seconds, returning with a blonde-haired baby on her hip.

"Sorry," she apologised again. "She's a bit cranky today."

The baby was still unhappy, now whimpering in her mother's arms. Emily bounced her up and down, rubbing the girl's back with the palm of her hand.

"I, um… I bought this for her," Christian blurted. His eyes were fixed on the baby and her reddened cheeks. He gestured to the box at his feet. "I thought she might like it. I didn't know what to bring but –"

Emily eyed the box and Christian saw her chin start to wobble. Her dark eyes filled with water.

"Thank you," she shook her head. She planted a kiss on her daughter's forehead. "That's very kind of you."

"If you don't like it I can –"

"It's great," she quickly assured him. "She doesn't have anything like that yet… I kept meaning to buy one but I never got around to it."

Christian blew out a long breath, relief seeping through his muscles. He ran his hands up and down his thighs, his palms starting to become clammy.

"I wanted to offer my condolences to you," he began. "Properly."

Emily simply nodded her head, having gotten used to hearing the same lines over and over again.

"It came as a huge shock when I found out Alexander had died," Christian continued. "I wish I had gotten the chance to speak with him."

"You said you knew his dad?" Emily remembered. She rocked on the spot, her jerky movements seeming to settle her grumpy daughter.

"I did," Christian nodded. "Timothy was very popular. Everyone knew him. I never did business with him, but he was someone I admired."

"I never met him," Emily shook her head. "I met Alex shortly after his dad died."

"How long were you two together before he…?"

"Not long enough," she muttered, her eyes falling to the ground. She blinked hard, composing herself. "We started dating just before he sold his dad's company. I was already living up here and he moved to be with me."

"How did you meet?"

"Online," she answered. "Well, through a friend, I suppose. We had mutual friends on Facebook and Alex added me. We started talking and we really hit it off… He was going through a really tough time back then, but he said talking to me made him happy."

Christian nodded his head, vaguely understanding what she was referring to. He had done some more digging into Alexander's past and unearthed a history of drug abuse. Alexander had gone off the rails when his mother died when he was fourteen – just a year before Elena had wormed her way into his life. But Alexander had completely spiralled out of the control when his father passed away a few years ago. He had been in full self-destruct mode. He had sold Affinity Industries for less than a third of what it was worth, and then he went on a binge. He was hospitalised for a week afterwards. According to the report Welch found, Alexander had been on death's door.

"He wanted us to start dating. Become official," Emily continued, her voice wandering through the silence. "He used to come visit me every weekend… I knew what he was like. He was honest with me, I couldn't fault him for that. He told me about the drugs, about his drinking… I told him I couldn't date someone who did things like that."

"Did he manage to turn things around?"

She nodded. "He moved up here and the next day he checked into a rehab facility. He was there for three months and he got clean. He worked really hard to sort himself out… I was really proud of him."

A darkness crept over her face, twisting her mouth into a pucker. Her throat bobbed again.

"We moved too fast," she muttered. She repositioned her daughter, cradling her close to her chest. "We were married within a year… I wonder if maybe we should have taken things slower. Got to know each other better first."

"It's hard to think clearly when you're in love," Christian replied.

Emily glanced back at him and slowly nodded her head.

"Looking back, I realise he just replaced one addiction with another," she shrugged. "Instead of drugs, he honed in on me. He poured all his money, time, attention into me… That was part of the reason he took my name when we got married. He said he wanted to escape his past, but he also wanted us to be closer. He used to say that he wanted to crawl under my skin and become a part of me… It was weird but I never questioned it at the time."

Christian's chest tightened and he pulled his eyes down to his hands. He began wringing them together, over and over.

"Did Alexander ever talk to you about his childhood?" he asked gingerly. "Was it just his parents' deaths that triggered his problems with drugs and alcohol?"

"He never spoke about that kind of stuff with me," Emily replied, disappointment sinking into her shy voice. "He used to clam up whenever I mentioned his childhood… I gathered something must have happened to him, but I never pressured him to talk to me about it. I figured that if he wanted to tell me, he would."

Christian bit down on his tongue. He prayed that Elena had no part in Alexander's later downfall, but something deep inside his gut warned him that she was probably the catalyst. She preyed on a vulnerable boy grieving his mother's death. She abused his trust and Christian knew from witnessing her other relationships, that once Elena was done with a sub, she simply cast them aside. She pretended like they didn't exist. Christian was the only one she had maintained contact with.

Elena had written in her journal that Alexander walked away from her, but chances were he probably reached out to her again. Maybe he spiralled when she rejected him? Christian could almost picture her laughing in the teenager's face, calling him pathetic, teasing him for being weak.

"Truth is, I don't know why Alex did what he did," Emily added bluntly, her chin rising as she spoke. "If that's why you're here."

Christian frowned at her.

"I'm assuming that's the reason you're here," she shrugged, staring him in the eye. "Everyone wants to know why he did it. It's all anyone cares about."

"I was worried about you and your daughter," Christian replied earnestly. "That's why I'm here. I wanted to make sure you're okay."

She stared at him for a moment longer, as if expecting him to laugh and say he was joking. She couldn't believe that someone was genuinely interested in her and not finding out the gossip about Alex's death. Only her family seemed to care about her and the babe in her arms.

Emily leaned back against the wall behind her, letting out a small sigh. She glanced down at her daughter, who had become fascinated with the collar of her t-shirt, her tiny fists tugging at the material.

"I thought we were fine," she muttered, her voice barely a whisper but echoing loudly through the empty room. "Things were going well. We had bought this place with plans to fix it up… We had only been married a little while, we were still in the honeymoon period… or at least I thought we were. We argued, sure, but it was mostly bickering."

Christian nodded his head. While he and Ana rarely argued, they did bicker now and then. Not so much recently, not since the fire at Maîtrise.

"We were meant to be flying to Toronto to visit my family," Emily continued. "But Alex said he didn't want to go. He said he was tired, he didn't want to be around anyone. I got upset with him because he was always changing plans like that. He'd just cancel without warning and it used to annoy the crap out of me… It got a little heated and he stormed out of the house. I was due to fly out the next morning and he didn't come back before I had to leave."

"You didn't see him again?"

"No," she shook her head. "When I got to my parents' house, I texted him to say I had arrived but he didn't reply. I left it for a couple days and then I tried calling him. When I didn't get an answer, I called the neighbours opposite –" she pointed lazily towards the window to the right of her. "They had seen him return here the day I arrived in Toronto, but they hadn't seen any activity since. I got really worried after that."

"Did you call the police?"

"They came here but they thought the house was empty," she replied. "His car was gone… I found out afterwards that he had sold it before coming back here."

Emily ribbed her lip between her teeth, her eyes starting to water. She blinked rapidly, trying to stave off her tears.

"He used the money to buy drugs," she revealed. "I was only gone for eight days. Eight days. That was it. I flew back here to see if I could track him down. He didn't have any friends, he kept himself to himself. He was always a bit of a loner. He was always the first to admit that."

Christian fidgeted in his seat. Elena definitely had a thing for loners. Did they make the easiest prey?

"I knew something was up," she added. She held her daughter a little tighter, pressing her into her chest. "I just knew it… I felt sick when I walked in here. I could feel that something was wrong. I found him upstairs."

She closed her eyes, reliving the moment. She shuddered, the memory too vivid.

"He left a note," she whispered. "He said he was sorry, that I was better off without him, that he couldn't bring me down to his level… He used a belt to…"

She trailed off. She didn't need to elaborate.

"I'm so sorry," Christian sighed. His throat was tightening, a hard lump forming in the middle of his neck. "No one should have to see something like that."

She shrugged her shoulders, trying to pull herself together.

"How are you?" he asked her. "I know it's a stupid question, but how are you doing?"

"Coping," she nodded. She shrugged again. Her eyes fell on her daughter, a small smile working itself over the hard line of her lips. "She keeps me busy… I don't know if I would have gotten through this if I didn't have her."

The baby turned her head, fixing her gaze on Christian for a second before looking all around the room. She let out a small grumble, annoyed that Emily had stopped bouncing her up and down.

"You didn't know you were pregnant when Alexander died?" Christian asked. "I read the article you did, after she was born."

Emily nodded. "I found out a couple of weeks later," she confirmed. "I was only six weeks along when I took the test. I had no idea. We hadn't been trying or anything."

"It was clearly meant to be," Taylor blurted, his deep voice cutting across the room. Christian turned his head up to glance at him, receiving a reassuring smile as he studied Taylor's expression. "You said you're moving?"

"To Toronto," she confirmed with a nod. "I need to be closer to my parents. It's too hard on my own, looking after her… Plus, I can't keep up with the mortgage. I'm already behind. If I don't sell soon, they'll take the house anyway."

Christian's jaw clenched. He knew what creditors could be like when someone falls behind on payments. They become vultures, ruthless and cruel.

He shook his head and shuffled to the edge of the couch.

"How far behind are you?" he asked. "How much money do you owe?"

Emily hesitated, looking nervously between Taylor and Christian.

"Is it in the thousands?" Christian prompted. She slowly nodded her head. "Have they given you a settlement figure?"

She nodded again.

"Give me their details, I'll sort it out for you."

"W-What?"

"I'll clear the debt," he said coolly, no infliction in his tone. The confusion on Emily's face stretched wider. "I can have it cleared by the end of the day."

"W-Why would you do that?" she shook her head. She pressed herself harder into the wall, desperately trying to remain upright even though her knees were starting to buckle. "Why would you want to do that for us?"

"Because you shouldn't have to deal with that on top of everything else you've had to cope with," Christian shook his head. "You've been through enough. The both of you. It's the least I can do."

"But I'd never be able to pay you back."

"I don't want your money," he replied. "I just want to help you."

"Why?"

Christian let out a hard sigh and ran his hand down his cheek. He had to think on his feet, something he was usually good at. But in that moment words were starting to fail him.

"It really upset me when I heard about Alexander and how he died," he explained carefully. "But I was particularly concerned when I found out he had left behind a wife and a child. It brought me a lot of frustration and sadness."

Emily was speechless. She didn't know what to say or think. It was too much to take in.

"You see," Christian gulped. "My birth mother committed suicide when I was four years old. My father wasn't on the scenes… I know how traumatic it can be, losing a parent. I know how much pain it can bring you. I know how suicide just pushes the pain onto someone else and I hate the idea of you or your daughter carrying that with you everywhere you go, like I have with my birth mother."

A tear slipped from Emily's eye, streaming down her cheek before she could wipe it away.

"You can tell me to get out, I wouldn't blame you. You don't know me," Christian shrugged. "But I would really like to help you. Do whatever I can to make things a little easier for you."

"I don't know what to say," she mumbled, shaking her head.

"Whatever you want or need," he added. "You're moving in a couple of days? Do you need help packing? I can call a team to help you. They could be here within the hour –"

"We're almost finished," she gulped. "But, um… I don't suppose you know how to dismantle a crib? That's the only thing that's left."

Christian quickly snapped his head up to Taylor.

"I'm sure I can figure it out," Taylor smirked, rolling his eyes at Christian. Changing a lightbulb was about the extent of Christian's DIY skills. "Do you have a toolbox?"

"Yes. Thank you. I've been trying to take it down all day but it's driving me crazy," she said. She peeled herself off the wall and positioned the baby on her hip. She gestured to the doorway. "I'll show you where it is."

Taylor glanced at Christian, making sure he'd be okay if he left the room. Christian nodded his head and watched as the three of them walked away.

In the sudden silence that had enveloped him, Christian buried his head in his hands. He felt drained, his energy dropping through the floor. He didn't think it would be this hard. This painful.

"Is he a friend of yours?"

He snapped his head up, startled, and saw Emily hovering in the doorway, appearing from thin air.

"Something like that," Christian nodded. "He has a daughter. He should know how to collapse a crib."

Emily gave him a shy smile and slowly moved into the room again. She crossed over to the couch and sat down beside Christian. She lifted and turned her daughter around, sitting her down on her lap. The girl was now being entertained by a rainbow coloured teddy bear, matching the small bears that covered her onesie.

"Do you have children?" Emily asked, seeing Christian staring at her daughter.

"Me? No," he quickly shook his head. "No, I don't."

"One day, huh?"

He shrugged his shoulder.

The air between them thickened as they both stared down at the baby.

Christian felt his inside jacket pocket burning, his subconscious reminding him about the note he had stuffed in there. He pulled out the folded piece of paper, offering it to Emily.

"What's this?" she frowned, tentatively accepting the scrap of paper.

"It's a list of various stores," he muttered. "I've set up accounts with each of them in your name. Whether it's for you or the baby, you can buy whatever you want and I'll pick up the bill."

"Mr Grey…"

"Christian," he corrected her.

"This is too much –"

"I'll make sure the same is set up for wherever you move to," he continued. "Whether you decide to stay in Toronto or move somewhere else."

Emily exhaled a shaky breath, her leg starting to bob up and down.

"I couldn't…" She fell silent for a moment. "I couldn't accept that. It's –"

"You don't need to make a decision right now," Christian said to her, trying to offer comfort despite the fact he didn't really know what to say. "Take as much time as you want. The offer will still be on the table."

"You don't know me," she repeated. "Why would you want to spend so much money on someone you don't know?"

"Because I had a really difficult childhood," he gulped. "And I suspect that a lot of Alexander's problems stemmed from his childhood, too. I wish I had had chance to speak with him. I wonder if I could have made a difference… I feel that, on some level, we had a lot in common."

Emily held his gaze, her lip starting to fluff out. Her fingers protectively curled around her daughter's legs, gently massaging the chubby stumps.

"I really don't like the idea of anyone suffering, especially children," he added, his eyes falling once again on the baby. He couldn't help but smile at her. She was plump and pink and so very small. "I know it must be overwhelming, but I would like it if you gave it some thought. I don't expect anything in return."

"It's very kind of you," Emily whispered. Another tear slipped down her face, but this time she managed to catch it before it trickled onto her baby's head. "It's been a nightmare since Alex died… Most days it's too difficult to even leave the house."

"I can understand," Christian hummed. He nodded to the baby. "How old she is now?"

"Six and a half months," Emily replied. Her smile returned as she lifted her daughter up, making her stand up on her thighs. "When she was born, I thought she was an angel sent from Alex… It was probably just the drugs the doctors gave me."

"She's beautiful," Christian smiled again.

He tentatively reached out and picked up the little girl's hand, her fingers instantly curling around his. She pursed her lips and then started to grumble again, becoming agitated. Christian quickly pulled his hand away.

"It's okay," Emily smiled. "She's just hungry."

She shuffled to the edge of the couch and stood up, clutching the squirming baby to her chest.

Emily glanced down at Christian and tilted her head.

"Actually, would you mind holding her for a second?" she asked, already offering the child over to him. "I've only got two hands and –"

"Oh no, I've never –"

Christian's eyes burst open, fear slicing through his gaze. But Emily simply smiled and settled her daughter down onto his lap. She was eager for just a few minutes to herself, a much-needed break from mom duty.

"I'll only be a minute or two," Emily promised.

She caressed the back of her daughter's head and quickly rushed out of the room, before the baby had chance to know she had disappeared.

Christian was frozen to the spot, clumsily holding the baby by her chest, his large hands under her tiny armpits. She was heavier than he had imagined, a solid weight resting on his thighs.

She reeled her head back and stared at him. Her eyes were two giant pools of crystal-clear water, contrasting with her white-blonde hair, a similar hue to her mother's.

 _What if I drop her?_

 _What if I'm hurting her?_

 _Am I holding her too roughly?_

 _I don't know what the fuck I'm doing!_

The baby wriggled, her curious hands reaching for his tie. She pulled on it, seemingly fascinated by the silky fabric.

As he stared at her sweet face, Christian felt his fears and trepidation fade into the back of his mind. His heart was still hammering in his chest, but his throat started to relax.

"I'm really sorry for what happened to your father," he whispered. The baby glanced up at him, intrigued by the sound of his voice. "I wish I had known about him sooner… He should have met you. It's not fair that he never got a chance to meet you."

She cooed back at him.

"I should have done something to stop her," he grumbled.

But no soon as the words left his mouth, he shook his head and pushed all thoughts of Elena out of his mind.

Elena was the reason he found out about Alexander and his family, that disgusting journal bringing him here, but it wasn't about her now.

How could he think of that monster when he had something so pure, so innocent in his arms?

"You remind me of my sister," he smiled at the baby. "She was your age when she came to live with us… I remember she used to grab my clothes all the time too."

The baby laughed, the sweet sound pulling a chuckle from Christian's lips.

"I'm glad my girlfriend isn't here right now," he shook his head, still grinning at the little girl. "She would fall in love with you in an instant. I know she would… She'd want to wrap you up and take you home with us."

She tugged on his tie, yanking him forward. She was stronger than she looked, a fact that pleased Christian immensely. Despite Emily clearly struggling with parenthood and grief, she was doing a great job looking after her daughter.

"Keep staring at me like that and I might take you home," Christian laughed.

 _What the fuck is happening to me?_

 _Can men get broody? Is that even a thing?_

Over the top of the baby's head he saw Emily return, shaking a bottle in her hand. She walked back to the couch and smiled.

"Would you like to feed her?"

"Sure," Christian hummed.

 _Might as well go the whole fucking hog now I'm here…_

Emily helped to reposition the baby, so she was sitting in the crook of Christian's arm. She passed him the bottle and guided his hand to the baby's mouth.

"You're a natural," Emily smiled as her daughter suckled hard on the bottle, her own hand clamping down on top of Christian's. "She clearly likes you. She normally bawls her eyes out when someone other than me holds her."

"You must be very proud," he nodded, tearing his gaze from the baby and looking at Emily as she returned to the seat beside him. "She's a lively little thing, isn't she?"

"She's worth the sleepless nights and headaches," Emily grinned.

"What's her name?" Christian wondered.

"Anabelle."

His heart skipped a beat, lurching into the base of his throat.

"I wanted to call her Alexandra, to commemorate Alex," she said. "But it didn't suit her. It's true what they say, you know – you can't settle on a name until you meet them."

"Anabelle," Christian nodded.

"My dad likes to call her Belle, but I usually call her Ana," Emily explained. "I think it suits her… My little Ana Banana."

"It's a beautiful name." Christian gulped down past the lump that had returned to his throat, making his voice sound strained. "My girlfriend's name is Ana."

"Really?" Emily cocked her head. "How strange."

He fixed his attention on baby Ana, watching as she happily chugged back her milk, filling her stomach. A part of Christian hoped that she would drink slower, he was enjoying this blissful moment too much to have to let her go.

"I'll think about your offer," Emily said to him. "I need time to think it over first."

"Take as much time as you need," Christian assured her, unable to lift his gaze from the baby. "I just want to help you. That's all."

The longer he stared at the baby, the more settled he felt. About everything. Not just all of the shit with Elena's journal, but about life in general.

Especially his future.

In that moment he knew, beyond a shadow of doubt, that he and his Ana would have a family of their own. In the back of his mind he pictured them with a child, Ana with a swollen stomach and glowing.

It wouldn't happen tomorrow, next month, maybe not even in the next year, but it would happen one day. And the thought brought only excitement to Christian, not the fear and panic he used to harbour whenever he thought about having children.

His birth mother, the pimp, Elena.

They were wrong. All of them.

 _I can do this. I am capable. I am strong enough._

 _I'm not scared of my future._


	19. Chapter Eighteen

**A/N: Hello my lovelies! I hope you're having a great week thus far.**

 **Thank you so much for all the wonderful comments I received on the last chapter. I'm really glad you enjoyed it. It was a particular favourite of mine, I have to admit.**

 **I hope you enjoy this chapter too.**

 **More coming soon!**

 **Much Love,**

 **Chelsea x**

* * *

 **SuzB** – Thank you! I'm so glad you liked it. It really was a huge milestone in Christian's recovery. :) I hope you enjoy this chapter too! Much Love x

 **Susan** – Thank you! I'm really glad you liked it. I hope you like this one too! Much Love x

 **Reds77** – Thank you so much! Christian has had his moment of realisation, for sure! He knows what he wants now and that's a huge step for him – not just for admitting it, but for accepting that he can have those things and not feel guilty for it. I really hope you enjoy this chapter! Much Love x

* * *

I was back home by 5:15pm, managing to escape the office early after working through most of my lunch break. It wasn't an intentional move, I had been gripped by the manuscript I was working on and could hardly tear myself away from it. Luckily, Sawyer went out and grabbed me something to eat, so at least I didn't grow hungry by mid-afternoon.

I had texted Christian before I left work, but he replied to say he was about to start a conference call and wouldn't be home until after six. I didn't mind. In fact, I was looking forward to having some time to shower before Gia Matteo was due to come over. My roots were on the greasy side and I felt a little sweaty after being cooped up in my small office all day.

As much as I knew I didn't need to impress Gia – she was coming into our home, after all – I was determined not to look like a complete dud standing next to her. I had done my research, Googling her name and coming across her website. She was hardly what you could call modest, splashing pictures of herself all over the site. In every photograph she looked glamourous, as if she had been prepped and primed by Hollywood's finest, not a single strand of hair out of place. She looked like the lovechild of Marilyn Monroe and Brigitte Bardot, for crying out loud!

Having scrubbed my face and body within an inch of its life, I clambered out of the shower and wrapped myself in a towel before heading through to the closet. I opted for one of the newer dresses Mia had picked out for me: it was tea-dress in style, falling loosely to my knees, with lacy capped sleeves. When I had first looked at it, I wasn't sure about the colour - lemon not usually something I would gravitate towards – but after trying it on, I had fallen in love with it. The colour seemed to compliment my pale skin, the darting on the chest flattering my subtle curves and extenuating the small of my waist.

I sat down at the dressing table Christian had recently bought for me and began rubbing my hair with my towel. I was about to reach for my dryer when I heard a knock on the bedroom door.

"Come in!" I called out.

Rushed footsteps moved through the bedroom, Mrs Jones quickly coming to a halt in the doorway of the closet. I turned on my stool to look at her, seeing that she had already changed out of her uniform and into jeans and a t-shirt.

"Is everything okay?" I asked her, smiling.

"I just wanted to let you know Miss Matteo is on her way up," she said with a nod. "Security in the lobby called to say she had arrived."

"What?"

Mrs Jones's brows fused together, a frown contorting her usually soft eyes.

"You are expecting her tonight, aren't you?" she questioned. "Taylor text me to say she was meeting with you and Christian."

"No – I mean, yes, we are," I flustered. "We are meeting with her, but she isn't supposed to be here until seven."

I reached down to my pile of discarded clothes and pulled my phone from my skirt pocket. I checked the time. 5:53pm.

"I can send her away," Mrs Jones suggested. I lifted my eyes back up to hers. "I can ask her to come back later if –"

"No, it's fine," I sighed, shaking my head. "It'd be rude to turn her away… Um, can you ask her to wait near the couches? I'll be out in a few minutes."

"Sure, no problem," she smiled. She was about to turn away but then glanced back at me from over her shoulder. "That dress looks lovely on you, by the way."

It was the kind of reassurance I needed. I thanked her before quickly jolting into action.

I blasted my hair with heat, blowing out as much of the water as possible. I didn't have time to reapply my makeup, so instead I checked there was no residue mascara under my eyes, pinched my cheeks to add some much-needed colour to my face, and applied some Chapstick. I sighed as I studied myself in the mirror.

 _Not quite the look I was going for…_

I raced out of the bedroom and my feet slammed into the marbled floor, my eyes fixing on the woman whose pictures I was scrutinising just an hour ago. I supposed a part of me had been hoping to find evidence of heavy photoshopping, but she looked identical to her photographs. _Damn it._

"You must be Gia?" I asked, dragging myself over to her.

She didn't say anything at first, simply nodded her head once. Her dark eyes dropped from mine and began to scale the length of my body.

"Are you hired help or the girlfriend?"

Her voice was sharp and cold, her maroon coloured lips pursing as she waited for an answer.

I didn't give her the first words that sprang to my mind…

"Girlfriend," I shot back. I pushed my hand out to her. "Anastasia Steele."

"Gia Matteo."

She feebly shook my hand, barely touching my fingers before pulling her arm back down to her side. Her honey-blonde hair had been fastened into a bun, secured with bright red chopsticks, the colour matching her sky-high heels. She was wearing a skin-tight black dress, the material stretching hard around her body. The deep V in the neckline was almost obscene, her cleavage practically in her throat. It was an outfit more suitable for a dinner date than a business meeting.

"We weren't expecting you until seven," I said, cutting through the silence that was starting to make my skin prickle. "Did you get the times wrong?"

"Excuse me?" she frowned.

"Was there some kind of mix-up?" I replied, sounding out the words slowly. I could feel myself bristling, my hackles starting to rise. "I was told you were coming over at -"

"Oh," she mouthed. She faked a laugh. "No, there's been no mistake. I was in the area and I thought I would swing by early."

"Right…"

"It's never been a problem before," she smirked. "Is Christian home yet?"

"No. He isn't." I pursed my lips and slowly crossed my arms under my chest. "Like me, Christian was under the impression you wouldn't be here until seven."

She shrugged her shoulders in a way that said 'oh well'.

Rhian's voice crept into my mind, walking me through the techniques she had showed me this morning. This wasn't quite the circumstance I had expected to need them, but I could feel the blood in my ears starting to thump and I knew I needed to cool down. Keep myself in check.

I exhaled a long breath and closed my eyes for a second. As the last dregs of air left my body, I plastered a smile on my lips.

"But seeing as you're here, maybe we can make a start?" I offered, somehow managing to keep my voice steady and confident. "I can talk you through some of the ideas –"

"Ah…" she hummed, tilting her head to the side. "Are you sure that's a good idea? Christian is _very_ particular about his home."

There was a long pause.

"And your point is…?"

"We wouldn't want to waste time, that's all," she shrugged again. "Make plans – important decisions - only for him to come home and reject everything. What would be the point in that?"

"Why would Christian reject my plans?" I fired back.

"This is his apartment," she replied. "I have worked with him for several years and –"

"I wouldn't normally interrupt someone when they're talking," I cut in, holding up my right hand. "But I think I need to remind you that this is mine and Christian's home now. I'm sure he's already explained that to you."

She stared at me, fixing me with a scowl. I watched as her lips puckered around her teeth, her throat bobbing as she gulped down whatever response had been sitting on the tip of her tongue.

"You can be assured that any decisions made about this apartment will be jointly mine and Christian's," I continued. "So, now we've cleared that up, how about we make a start? We can't have you sitting around being paid to do nothing while we wait until Christian comes home, can we?"

She gave me a single nod, but I could see that she was seething. She wanted to bite back. I was almost hoping she would.

"I'm going to get myself a drink. Would you like anything?" I asked sweetly, almost mockingly.

"Just a water, thank you," she grunted back.

I gave her a broad smile and slowly turned on my heels, heading for the kitchen.

 _Be glad you're dealing with me and not Kate_ , I thought to myself. _She'd spit in your glass_.

I crossed the length of the kitchen, moving out of Gia's view, and pressed my back into the cool countertop.

What the fuck did Elliot ever see in her, except someone to keep his bedsheets warm?

I looked down at my arms and peeled them from my body, realising that I had been gripping my phone in my now sweaty left hand. I unlocked it and quickly opened up my texts to Christian, firing out a new message.

 _How long until you come home? x_

Three dots danced underneath my message.

 **What's wrong? Are you OK? C x**

 _I'm fine. Gia is here… x_

 **For fuck's sake. OK. I'm still on my call but I'll wrap things up. C x**

As I typed my reply, another text pinged on my screen.

 **If she's rude to you, throw her out. C x**

 _Let's just say I can understand why Grace doesn't like her! x_

 **Not even Elliot likes Gia. C x**

 _Yet he's dated her on and off for years? x_

 **Gia claims they dated, Elliot says they were just fuck buddies – his words, not mine. Let me finish this call and I'll be home soon. C x**

 _Don't rush things on my account. I'm sure I can fend her off for a little longer x_

 **Give me 15. Love you. C x**

* * *

True to his word, Christian was home within fifteen minutes of his last message.

I had let Gia get on with taking various measurements in each of the rooms we were planning to redecorate. Mostly to keep her out of my hair. I was probably one more snide comment away from committing first degree murder…

After she had finished making notes, Gia took over the dining room table, laying out swatches and mood boards she had already created before even speaking to us. I was about to excuse myself when I heard the elevator ping. Relief seeped through my shoulders, bringing them back down to where they belonged.

Christian made a beeline for me, only breaking stride to set his briefcase down on the table. His hands quickly found the small of my back, pulling me forward so my stomach was flush with his.

"Hey, baby," he whispered. His lips smoothed over mine, gifting me with a gentle kiss that made me tingle all over. "God it feels good to be home…"

The breathy tone of his voice sent a shiver through my body, my mouth instinctively reaching for his, stealing another kiss.

He held my gaze for a second longer than necessary, before finally dragging his attention over to Gia.

I followed his eyeline and found myself smirking at the disdain that had twisted over her face. She was looking less like Bardot and more like a goblin.

"You're early," Christian blurted, taking a small step back and turning to face Gia head on. He frowned at her. "We agreed seven."

"I was in the area," she replied. She held her chin up and stared him in the eye. "Me coming over early has never been a problem in the past."

"You must be confusing me with my brother," he shot back. "And for future reference, don't think you can just come here whenever you want."

Gia pressed her lips into a hard line. She gulped hard.

"Has Ana begun talking you through some of the ideas we already have?" Christian asked.

"I thought it was best to wait until you joined us," she explained, somehow managing to crack a benevolent smile. "I've already taken measurements and I have a lot of ideas of things we can do to –"

Christian held up his hand to silence her and shook his head.

"I really don't care about your ideas," he huffed. "Not yet, anyway. I want you to listen to what we want and then come back with your designs. Okay? Then we'll decide if we want to hire you or not."

She quickly jerked her head back, her brown eyes widening so hard I thought they would pop right out of her skull and roll across the dining table.

"Excuse me?"

"What?" Christian shrugged. "Surely you didn't think this contract was automatically yours?"

"But we've –"

"It's not just me you need to impress," he told her. He pulled me to stand in front of him, facing her. His hands crept up to my shoulders. "You need to impress Ana, too."

I could almost see the steam billowing out of her ears…

"In the past, Gia, I've given you free rein," Christian continued. His fingers rubbed lightly over the rounded tips of my shoulders. "But this time will be different. Ana and I want to make this apartment truly ours. We want it to reflect us and our tastes. Do you understand?"

She hesitated before slowly nodding her head.

"Good," he hummed. "You should also know that whatever Ana says goes. Whatever she wants, she gets… Nothing is too much for _my girlfriend_ –"

He softened his tone as he said those words. He brought his lips down and smoothing them over my cheek.

"Before we make a start," he muttered to me, "I've brought home those papers for you to sign. Let's get it out of the way now, yeah?"

I nodded my head and waited as he peeled away from me and reached for his briefcase. I knew what he was doing. Another bee to stick in Gia's bonnet...

He popped open the lid of his black briefcase and removed a file, quickly setting it down on the table top.

He turned over several pages until he came to the box that was awaiting my signature. I accepted the fountain pen he was holding out to me and lowered the golden nib to the page.

My heart fluttered as I scribbled my name, blotting the white paper with black ink. In just a second flat, I had agreed to take on half of the apartment. I was a joint owner of the penthouse. My stomach almost flipped as the realisation hit me.

But the feeling was quashed when I looked up and saw the expression on Christian's face.

He was happy. No, he was proud… and I wasn't sure if he was proud of me for signing the papers, or if he was proud of himself for opening up his home to me. For sharing his most private space with me?

Whatever it was, it settled the nervous doubt that had been needling me all day.

"Thank you," he breathed, grinning wildly at me.

I didn't have anything to say back to him. There was nothing I could say that would ever been sufficient enough. So, instead, I closed the gap between us and pushed my arms around his back, nestling into his chest for a hug.

Gia cleared her throat and shuffled loudly on her chair, jerking our focus back to her.

"Maybe you can start by telling me what you would like for the kitchen?" she asked, her irritated tone bringing yet another smile to my lips. Was it wrong to be taking pleasure from her obvious discomfort? "I'm keen to figure out exactly what it is you want… especially you, Ana."

"I'm sure you are," I sang back to her, my cheek still pressing hard against Christian's chest.

* * *

Gia didn't stick around for long, wrapping up the meeting as quick as possible. She had tried hard to restrain herself, several times having to bite down on her lip to stop herself from firing back at my suggestions.

I thought her head was going to explode when Christian mindlessly placed his hand on my thigh and began massaging the space above my knee…

After waving Gia off and flipping her the bird behind her back, I followed Christian into the kitchen. His shoulders jiggled up and down and he shook his head.

"What are you laughing at?"

"You," he chuckled. He looked back over his shoulder and smirked at me. "The way you handled her. It was brilliant."

"Ugh," I sighed, rolling my eyes. "She really does think she's something special, doesn't she? Coming in here like she owns the place!"

Setting our empty cups down on the counter, he turned around and walked over to me. He set his hands firmly on my hips.

"You own this place," he reminded me, pulling me into his front. "Well, half of it."

I let out a long breath and sagged into his hold.

"I didn't think you would sign it so easily," he said. "I was expecting you to put up a fight."

"The thought did cross my mind," I smiled. "But I know how much it meant to you."

He stooped to bring himself to my level, our noses inches apart.

"Do you want to eat now or later?" he asked.

"I'm not that hungry," I shrugged.

"Good," he smirked. "Because I'm in the mood for a long soak in the bath."

"Hm…" I hummed. "Sounds perfect."

"I want to hear all about your session with Rhian."

"Oh!" I gasped, leaning back from him. "It's funny you should mention that. I have something I need to show you!"

I pulled his hands off my hips and dragged him over to the refrigerator.

The first thing I did when I got home was put Harriet's picture on the fridge, sticking it in place with some alphabet magnets I bought after leaving work. I had spelt out mine and Christian's names across the edges of the white paper.

"What's that?" Christian frowned, staring at the doodle.

"It's a drawing," I said. He rolled his eyes. "It's us."

He tilted his head, studying it from a different angle, his frown deepening for a second.

"Harriet drew it," I explained. "She gave it to me after my session with Rhian… She made me promise to show it to you."

His brows slowly crept back into their usual place, his eyes softening around the edges. He didn't say anything at first, too busy taking in every detail of the picture.

I thought for a second that he was about to cry.

"I've always thought about dyeing my hair that colour," he finally said, clearing his throat. He let out a small laugh and shook his head. "But what is that supposed to be? A lizard?"

"It's a cat," I giggled. "You should have seen her face when she showed it to me. She looked so proud of herself."

"She should be," he nodded. "It's a beautiful picture."

"You like it?"

"Of course I do! It's wonderful."

"I didn't know if you'd like me sticking it on the fridge," I shrugged.

"It's the perfect place for it," he nodded, giving the image another glance over before returning his gaze to me. "It's nice to have some colour in the apartment."

"Don't tell Gia that or she'll rip your head off," I quipped.

Christian dropped his arm around my shoulders and brought his lips to my forehead. He let out a heavy sigh as he held me close to him.

"Are you okay?" I asked.

"Yeah," he muttered. "It's been a long day."

I arched my neck and studied his face. He certainly looked tired, but there was something else lingering behind his eyes. Something I couldn't place or explain.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

He slowly nodded his head.

"Let's talk in the tub," he smiled.

* * *

I reclined against Christian's torso, enveloped in a heady mix of jasmine and vanilla, his arms wrapped tight around my chest. I rested my head on his shoulder as he told me about his unplanned trip to Vancouver.

"I didn't think she would reply," he murmured into my ear. His fingers began tapping a light dance across my stomach as he spoke. "I really didn't expect her to agree to meeting with me."

"I can't believe you just dropped everything and flew out of the country," I shook my head, still in shock at his admission. "I wish I had known, I would have gone with you."

"If it hadn't been so last minute, I would have asked you to come," he assured me, turning his face into my neck and kissing his way up my throat. "Emily is due to move in to her parents' house in a few days. That's why she asked to meet today. Time wasn't on her side… But I'm really glad I was able to talk to her face-to-face."

"How did she seem?" I wondered.

I couldn't help but be reminded of my mother as I thought about Emily. My mother was widowed just 24 hours after I was born. It was meant to be the happiest time in her life, yet it was suffocated by grief.

"Is she coping? Getting by alright on her own?"

"I could tell she's struggling," he confirmed with a sigh. "She's having to sell her house as quick as possible because she's fallen behind on mortgage repayments."

"Jesus. We all know how cruel creditors can be," I muttered to myself. "They don't give a shit if you're dying, they just want their money back and then some."

"That's why I've offered to pay off the interest and debt accrued," he said. I twisted my chin to glance up at him, my brows lifting. "It's the least I can do to help her out. It'll buy her some time, give her some breathing space."

"That's really kind of you," I smiled.

"I've also offered to help her in other ways," he admitted. He raised a hand to my face and smoothed my hair off my forehead, beads of water trickling down his fingers to my temples. "I called a number of stores and set up accounts for her, so she can buy whatever she wants. All charges will come to me."

"Wow…"

"Stuff for the baby, groceries," he reeled off in a shrug. "Anything she wants, too. If she needs new clothes or toiletries."

I began to shake my head, the smile on my lips stretching wider across my face.

"What?" he frowned.

"You didn't just think of the baby," I said. "You thought of her, too."

"And…?"

"I think that's incredible," I told him. "Moms never think about themselves, and other people usually forget about them too… My mother once told me she never felt more invisible than she did after I was born. All anyone cared about was me and how I was doing. I love the fact you thought about Emily. That's a really sweet gesture."

"It just seemed the obvious thing to do," he shrugged again. "She and her daughter have suffered since Alexander's death. I want to help the both of them."

"I love how generous you are," I smirked. I lifted my arm and draped it around his shoulder. I pulled myself upright and twisted to face him. "I'm glad other people are getting a chance to see how amazing you truly are."

He dropped his eyes from mine, his cheeks starting to flush bright red.

"You don't even know these people and you want to help them," I reminded him. "If that doesn't show how selfless and incredible you are, I don't know what does."

He pressed his lips together, a slight smile appearing over them as he stared at the bubbles swirling around us.

I slipped my hands around the back of his neck and moved to straddle him, sitting on his thighs as he pulled his knees up for me to rest against.

"I hope she'll accept my offers," he mumbled. "She said she wanted to think about it first."

"I can understand that," I nodded. "But maybe it'll be easier for her, not actually having the money in her hands? It won't be burning a hole in her pocket, for a start."

"I told her to take as much time as she needs," he hummed. "I just want to make sure she doesn't suffer any more than she already has. I can't help Alexander, but I might be able to help the people he's left behind."

"How did you come across Alexander?" I wondered. "I know you said you had been trying to find him, but what made you start looking for him in the first place?"

"I came across something that named him," he mumbled. "It sent me down a rabbit hole. When I heard about his wife and daughter, I knew I had to do something."

"That's because you're a wonderful man," I grinned. I brought my face to his and kissed him, pulling a groan from deep within his chest. His hands glided up my back. "So generous… so perfect…"

"I'm far from perfect," he grunted. "I've made a lot of mistakes. I've hurt a lot of people."

"But you're learning and you're changing," I told him. "That's all you can do, Christian."

He gazed up at me, his eyes twinkling in the candlelight.

"Thank you for giving me half of your home," I whispered. "It still feels like too big a gesture, but I know what it means to you."

"I need to know that you're taken care of, if anything were to happen to me," he explained. "But I really do want us to be equals... I know that sounds fucking ridiculous, considering I spent so many years making sure I was always on top. Making sure I was in complete control of everything, but –"

"I get it," I nodded, interrupting his ramble. I lowered my lips to his again. "Meeting me really screwed with your head, didn't it?"

He snorted, a laugh breaking out of him. He nodded his head.

"You turned my whole world upside down," he smirked. "I'm starting to think that anyone called Ana has the power to change the way I view things."

His lips pulled apart, splitting in a broad grin. I found his expression both infectious and confusing. I couldn't help but laugh with him.

"What do you mean?"

"Emily's daughter," he said. "Her name is Anabelle."

"Really?" I shook my head, my brows shooting up to my hairline. "Wow… What a strange coincidence."

"Tell me about it," he nodded. He let out a sigh. "Anabelle was beautiful… She weighed a lot more than I expected her to. She was quite heavy."

"What?" I frowned, jerking my head back. "Wait, do you… You held her? The baby?"

He grinned at me.

"Christian, are you kidding me?" I gasped. "You held a baby?"

"Emily let me feed her too," he nodded, pride swimming through his expression. "I gave her a bottle."

"I don't know what to say," I shook my head. "I really wish I had been there now! I can't imagine you cuddling up with a baby!"

"Neither can I," he chuckled. "It was the craziest thing. I don't understand what came over me, but it was just… It was so relaxing. I can't explain it."

"I wish Taylor had taken a picture for me to see!"

"It really got me thinking," he continued, his mind starting to wander. His palms traced their way down my back, coming to rest on the curves of my hips. "About a lot of things, actually."

"Like what?"

"Us," he muttered. He fixed me with a stare that sent a shiver pulsing through my veins. "About our future."

"Okay…" I sighed. A hint of nervousness crept over me, my skin bubbling with goosebumps. "What about our future?"

"Do you…" he hesitated. His lips twisted, his jaw clenching. "Do you want kids?"

My heart leapt into my throat, my breath hitching.

"W-What... like… now?" I gulped. "Do you mean…?"

"Not now," he shook his head.

I blew out a long sigh.

"No, I don't mean right this second," he assured me. "But is that something you want?"

I had never really given it too much thought. Even as a kid, I had never thought about whether I would end up getting married or having children of my own. For the longest time I never thought I would meet a man who I would want to spend my life with. I thought I was destined to be a spinster...

And since meeting Christian, I had tried hard not to think too far ahead. It seemed dangerous to let myself imagine what our future might look like. Until only a few months ago I was convinced that something – or someone – would find a way to split us up and I would lose Christian forever. Losing him would be hard enough, but losing out on a future I had imagined for myself… That would tear me apart completely.

But now, with those threats no longer alive, I could feel something buzzing inside my core. A butterfly sensation spreading through my stomach. The sound of tiny feet thumping in the back of my mind.

I slowly nodded my head.

"Yeah," I whispered. "It is."

"Really?"

"Not any time soon though," I was hastened to add. "I'm not ready for that yet."

"Neither am I," he smiled. "But seeing Anabelle today, holding her… I don't know. It made me realise we've never had that conversation before."

"Do you want kids?" I checked.

"Only with you," he nodded.

He jerked forward and kissed me hard, stealing my breath.

"I needed to know if we're on the same page," he muttered. "I needed to know that it's definitely on the cards for us."

"It is," I nodded confidently. "One day."

"One day," he agreed.

His expression relaxed and he exhaled a deep breath, almost as if he had been holding it back for hours. I sank down into his hold, burying my head into his neck.

"For now, I'm perfectly content with just practising the baby-making…"

"So am I," I breathed. "I want you to myself first. Before anyone else comes along… I'm not ready to share you."

He chuckled under his breath. He turned his lips into my ear.

"You've got me, baby. I'm all yours."


	20. Chapter Nineteen

**A/N: Hello Lovelies. Happy Hump Day! I hope you're having a good week so far.**

 **As always, I hope you enjoy this chapter. There's plenty more coming soon, I assure you.**

 **Much Love,**

 **Chelsea x**

* * *

 **DoloresDeeHowe** – Thank you! Oh yes, Gia is a bit of a nightmare and that isn't the last we'll see of her. She'll pop up again very soon for another confrontation! I hope you enjoy this chapter. Much Love x

 **SuzB** – Thank you! I'm really glad you liked the last chapter. I hope you enjoy this one too! Much Love x

 **Desini** – Thank you! Gia definitely thinks she's above everyone else, which will only mean she has twice as far to fall when she's knocked off her perch… I hope you like this chapter! Much Love x

 **Susan** – Thank you! I'm really glad you liked it. There isn't a baby on the way for Ana and Christian just yet, but definitely at some point in the future. I hope you like this chapter! Much Love x

 **Iamdbomangmail** – Thank you! I'm so glad you're still enjoying the story and are looking forward to more. I really hope you like this chapter! Much Love x

* * *

"Here's your mail, Ana –"

I peered up from my computer screen and smiled at the intern standing on the other side of my desk, holding a stack of Monday morning mail in his arms.

"Thank you," I nodded, holding my hand out for my pile of envelopes and packages.

He turned on his heel and quietly left my office, pulling the door to a soft close as he exited. I flicked through my mail, checking for anything of importance. It was the usual mix of enquiries and manuscripts. I would plough my way through them later, as soon as I had –

My train of thought was interrupted as my cell phone rattled on my desk. I snatched it up and saw an incoming call from Mia.

"Hey!"

Her voice sang loudly in my ear, full of bounce and excitement.

"Hi, Mia," I replied. I checked the time on my computer, frowning as I realised it wasn't even 9:30 yet. I don't think I've ever spoken to Mia before midday… "Is everything okay?"

"Oh yeah, everything's fine, don't worry," she chirped back. "I'm calling to ask you about tonight. I was just putting together the final plans for –"

"Wait. Tonight? What's happening tonight?"

Mia hesitated for a moment.

"Um, it's Christian's birthday party."

"What?" My brows shot up my forehead. "Is it…?"

 _Oh fuck._

I opened up my calendar and double-clicked on today's date. My stomach sank through to my feet as I hovered over the memo I had made months ago.

 **Christian's 29th birthday.**

How the hell did I forget!?

I bowed my head as guilt fired through me at record speed.

"I didn't tell you about the party, did I?" Mia muttered. "Damn it. I knew I had forgotten something."

"Yeah, you and me both," I sighed. "I didn't even remember it was his birthday today."

"Oh… Christian hasn't mentioned it?"

"No," I said. "Not even this morning, as we were getting ready for work… It was just like any other day."

"Figures," she hummed. "I thought he might've felt differently this year. I assumed he might actually want to celebrate now you're on the scenes."

"What do you mean?"

"Christian hates his birthday," she explained with a shallow sigh. "He never wants to acknowledge it… I was really hoping this year would be different. That's why I'm throwing him a party. It's meant to be a nice surprise for him…"

I closed my eyes and inhaled a deep breath.

"Do you think I should just cancel it?" Mia asked me.

"No," I shook my head. "No, don't cancel the party. We should celebrate his birthday."

"But he –"

"He deserves one day that's all about him," I added. I groaned at myself. "God, I should have remembered… I even put a note in my diary, for crying out loud!"

"You have had a lot on your mind lately," she said, trying to soothe me.

"I haven't even bought him a card, let alone a gift."

"Don't worry about any of that," she told me. "If you want, I can head out this afternoon and pick something for you to give him?"

"No, it's fine," I sighed. "I can go shopping on my lunch break. Thanks for the offer, though."

"I'm sorry I didn't remind you sooner," she hummed apologetically. "Like I said, I was just going over my plans and I realised I need you to make sure Christian is at our parents' house for seven."

"It's okay. I'll make sure he's there," I agreed. "Does he know about the party at all?"

Mia snorted. "If he knew, he'd have flown halfway across the world just to avoid coming!"

"Is that because he hates surprises, parties or his birthday?"

"All of the above," Mia laughed. "Listen, I have to go. I am really sorry. I guess I'll see you tonight?"

"Yeah, I'll see you later," I nodded and ended the call, dropping my hand onto my lap.

I felt like the worst person in the world.

Why didn't I set an alert to remind me?

Why didn't Christian mention it?

What can be so bad about his birthday that he wants to avoid it completely?

I lifted my phone again and opened up my texts, sending him a short message.

 _I'm missing you x_

His reply came through instantly. Since he had missed my messages the other week, he has been glued to his phone whenever I'm not with him.

 **Missing you too. Can't wait to have you back in my arms. C x**

 _How's your morning going so far? x_

 **Fine. Nothing interesting to report. What about yours? C x**

 _All good here. Do we have any plans for tonight? x_

I was testing the water, checking if he would give me anything, even just a small hint.

 **No, I haven't made any plans. I like the idea cuddling in front of the TV, though… C x**

I sighed under my breath.

 _Sounds perfect. What time are you finishing work today? x_

 **I should be done by six. I'll pick you up from SIP. C x**

 _Can't wait. I love you x_

 **Love you too, baby. C x**

Sadness filled me as I thought about the possible reasons as to why he doesn't want to celebrate. Christian's past was darker than I think anyone would ever realise and I hoped that whatever his reasons are, we can work together to rectify them. Or at least enable him to move on from it.

I was determined to make up for forgetting. Regardless of whether he likes it or not, I should have remembered. He would never forget my birthday, that I was certain of.

* * *

I bargained with Mark to leave at 5pm, wanting to head over to Grey House and meet Christian there. My boss was as accommodating as ever, more so once I had mentioned Christian's name. He melts into putty whenever Christian is worked into the conversation, his infatuation showing no signs of letting up.

Jaz and Sawyer walked with me, the three of us squeezing through the masses of people jostling along the sidewalks. As I made it to Christian's building, I headed straight for the elevators. I rummaged through my wallet for the key-card Christian had given me. It gave me unlimited access to anywhere in his building, allowing me to come and go whenever I want.

I tumbled out of the elevator onto the top floor and was immediately greeted by Taylor. He was stood on the other side of the walkway, leaning against the wall, flicking through a newspaper.

"Ana," he smiled at me. He looked down at his watch and pursed his lips. "I thought we were meeting you at SIP in an hour?"

"I left early," I shrugged my shoulders. "Jaz and Sawyer are downstairs. I didn't come here alone, I promise."

He gave me a curt nod, thanking me for the additional information.

His eyes slowly fell to my hand, noticing the blue gift bag I was holding.

"I'm assuming Miss Grey reminded you what today is?" he asked. He flicked a brief glance to Christian's office at the end of the hall. "He was hoping no one would remember."

"He told you that?"

He nodded again. "When I wished him happy birthday earlier, all he did was complain."

"I don't think I've ever met someone who hates their birthday." I let out a deep sigh and shook my head.

"You've never met someone as complicated as him before," Taylor said. He folded up his newspaper and tucked it under his arm. "But I'm sure he will appreciate your gift. Just don't expect him to be in a particularly good mood…"

"Is he extra grumpy today?"

"More so than usual," he hummed in confirmation. "He's alone. Head on through."

I picked up my feet and made my way down the hall, giving a polite smile to the girls on the reception desk as I passed them. When I reached Christian's door, I knocked once and then let myself in, not bothering to wait for an answer.

"Send the documents over –"

He was sat in his chair with his back to the door, his phone pressed to his right ear. Without looking, he held up his left hand, ordering me to wait a minute.

"I'll take a look at it myself. Did you just hear what I said? Send the documents over to me and I will see if I can make sense of it," he grumbled to his caller. "Well clearly you can't handle it, so I'll do it my-fucking-self."

He ended the call and threw his head back against his chair, letting out a heavy groan.

"Fucking imbeciles…"

I remained where I was, hesitating over my next move. _Jeez_. Taylor wasn't kidding.

After a few minutes, Christian slowly spun around to face his desk and immediately shot a stern look in my direction.

His mouth fell open, his brows merging together into a hard line across his forehead.

"Ana?" he shook his head, confused. "What are you doing here?"

"I finished work early," I said, a wary smile crossing my lips. "Thought I would surprise you."

I shuffled over to him, coming to stand between him and his desk. I turned and set my purse and the gift bag down.

"I'm not disturbing you, am I?"

"No," he sighed. He inched his chair forward, closing the gap between us. His fingers splayed over my thighs, rubbing from my kneecaps to my hips. "I'm glad you're here… It's always a pleasure having you here."

I reached down and placed my hands on his shoulders, holding him steady as I brought my mouth to his.

"Happy birthday," I whispered, hovering over his lips.

His eyes quickly widened, his head jolting back so he could see me properly. He looked simultaneously shocked and disappointed. Worried, even.

"I'm sorry I forgot this morning," I told him. "I wish you had reminded me."

"Why would I remind you of something I try to forget myself?" he huffed, shaking his head. He slumped back, appearing deflated. "It's just another day to me."

My heart twisted, a shooting pain pulsing through my chest.

"What happened?" I tentatively asked. "What made you hate your birthday so much?"

His jaw clenched hard. I could see he was debating whether to tell me or not, the answer decided when he patted his thigh, urging me to sit down on his lap.

If he was going to tell me, he needed me closer to him. He needed me in his arms.

I nestled myself onto his legs, placing my hand at the nape of his neck, my fingers reaching up into his hair.

"My fourth birthday is one of my earliest memories," he began, his voice shallow and taut. "I can remember my birth mother teasing me about it. I had asked her if I was going to have a cake and she knocked me to the floor. She had slapped me across the face."

"Christian…"

"W _hy would I give you a fucking cake? I didn't even want you. No one wants you._ " His tone took on a colder, harsher note as he blasted out that woman's callous words. " _I should have killed you as soon as you were born_ …"

"Oh, baby –"

"She called me a piece of shit. She was always saying stuff like that to me."

"I'm so sorry."

"She left the apartment and didn't come home for a couple days," he continued. His hands pressed into my thigh, tightening his grip. Holding me as close to him as possible. "She used to do that a lot. Disappear for days, sometimes weeks… I was so fucking scared. Every little noise would terrify me. I used to hide in the closet until I knew the coast was clear."

I didn't know what to say. I knew his birth mother had been cruel to him, but to leave a young boy on his own for days?

"The hunger pains were the worst part of it," he continued, disappearing into his thoughts. "It would make me feel sick. It felt like my stomach was being ripped apart from the inside."

I dropped my chin onto his shoulder, hiding my face as I felt a tear slip down my cheek. I squeezed my eyes shut to stop any more from breaking free.

"When she eventually came home, she was always off her face," he sighed. "She would vomit all over the place. She would leave pills and needles everywhere… If it was just her, I could handle it. But when her pimp came over –"

He stopped himself, shaking his head to dispel those particular memories. I remembered him telling me what they used to do, how his mother and her pimp would take it in turns to beat him. They used him like a punchbag and an ashtray.

"Her behaviour got worse after that birthday," Christian mumbled. "The following Christmas was awful… I told you about the teddy bear, didn't I?"

I nodded my head. He had revealed that story to me in London - how she had given him a dirty cuddly bear that she had probably found in a dumpster. Christian had loved that bear, the only gift he had ever been given, only for her to steal it from him days later. She tore it apart in front of him.

"She was always doing fucked up shit like that," he said. "She would come home with food and eat it in front of me, knowing I was starving… I would wait for her to fall asleep and then I'd pick at her leftovers. Sometimes I'd have to dig it out of the trash…"

"My God," I breathed. "Christian, you deserved so much better than what she did to you. I'm so sorry you had to put up with that."

"She killed herself on December 27th," he revealed. "I was found on New Year's Eve… It's not just my birthday I hate, it's Christmas too. They're pointless days to me. It makes me think about her and the way she behaved, and I would rather forget about her altogether."

"But you shouldn't –"

"Why would I want to celebrate being born to that fucking monster?" he shot back. "I was born to a woman who wasn't fit to be a mother in the first place."

I eased my head back and brought my hand to his cheek. I turned his face towards me and studied his hardened features. My thumb rolled over the corner of his lips.

"If she hadn't given birth to you, we would never have met," I muttered. "She didn't know a good thing when she had it. She should have stepped up and loved you the way you deserve to be loved."

"Ana –"

"Your birth is something to celebrate," I told him. "I mean it. The world is a better place because you're in it… My life is better because you're in it."

He softened his eyes and blinked rapidly. He pursed his lips and pressed a kiss to the pad of my thumb, rolling his cheek into my palm.

"And I want to mark the day you came into the world," I said defiantly. I pulled his face down to mine and kissed him hard and passionately. "I want to show you how much you are loved."

"I know you love me," he whispered. He opened his eyes and fixed me with his sombre stare. "But there's still that boy inside me who wishes his mother had loved him…"

"I know."

He gulped hard and shook his head.

"But I wouldn't change my life," he mumbled. "Things are a lot better now."

I gave him a smile and another kiss, taking a moment to rest my forehead against his.

"It was Mia who reminded me," I explained quietly. "She told me you hate your birthday and all the hoo-hah…"

"And now you know why."

"I still got you present," I said.

"You didn't need to get me anything," he shook his head.

I leaned over to his desk and picked up the gift bag, bringing it to my lap. He peered inside, curiosity getting the better of him.

"I didn't get chance to wrap it," I said. "It's nothing extravagant."

He smiled at me as he dipped his hand into the bag and retrieved his card first. He pulled his arm out from around my back, so he could tear open the envelope.

The card was fairly simple. On the front was a photograph of the Sound at sunset, the orange sky bleeding into the rippling water.

He opened it up and read my message.

 _Dear Christian,_

 _Happy birthday, baby!_

 _I'm sorry I didn't make a fuss of you this morning. If I'd realised what today is I would have showered you with hugs and kisses, making sure you left our apartment with a huge grin on your face…_

 _(I'll make it up to you, I promise!)_

 _Thank you for being the generous, supportive, loving man you are._

 _Thank you for being my saviour, my lover, my best friend._

 _But, most of all, thank you for being mine._

 _I love you with all my heart._

 _Forever Yours,_

 _Ana x_

He cleared his throat as his eyes darted across my words, reading it through several times. It took him forever to respond to it, barely even a flicker of recognition on his face.

"Thank you," he eventually mumbled, his voice sounding hoarse.

I took the card from him and propped it open on his desk.

"Ana…" he breathed my name as he removed his gift from the bag. I returned my eyes to him and saw his mouth hanging open in surprise. "It's…"

He fell into silence as he studied the picture frame I had bought him.

It was solid platinum with two silver wires weaving around the edges, like twines coiling around the photograph. I had chosen a picture we both loved, each of us choosing it as the wallpaper on our phones. In the photo I am grinning madly at the camera, mid-laugh, while Christian is planting a wet kiss on my cheek, hugging me from behind.

"You don't have any photographs here, in your office," I told him. "I figured you could put it next to your computer… Have a little piece of me here with you."

"It's perfect," he nodded. His lips split into a grin. "Thank you."

He offered me the frame and moved us closer to his desk, so I could set the picture down next to his monitor. He hugged me tight against him, his lips feathering their way across my cheek.

"Thank you," he repeated. "You have no idea what it means to me. Just having you in my life… You're every birthday and Christmas present I could ever want."

My cheek started to burn under his lips, a tingling sensation working through the rest of my body.

"Will you let me spoil you?" I asked. "Let me make a fuss of you?"

A small moan left his mouth, a protest already building in him.

"Please?" I begged.

I shifted off his lap and stood between his parted knees. I stared down at him, tilting my head to the side.

"Your birthday is important to me," I continued. I placed my hands on the arms of his chair and leaned forward, affording him a look down my blouse. "I want you to feel important."

"Ana…"

"I want to make this birthday the best you've ever had," I sighed, lowering to my knees. "I want to spoil you."

My hands dropped to his thighs, my fingers inching their way to his belt buckle.

"You don't need to do this," he shook his head, seizing my wrists and pulling my hands up. "Don't do this because you think that's what I'm expecting from you."

"Christian –"

"I don't want you to drop to your knees for me," he ordered. "I don't need this –"

"I want to do this," I interrupted him. "Really, I do…"

I snatched my wrists out of his vice-like grip and ran my palms over his crotch, massaging him through his pants. I smirked as I felt him harden under my touch.

"I've wanted to do this for a while," I admitted in a breathy whisper. "I want to taste you."

I pulled his belt apart and slowly tugged on his zipper, teasing it open.

"I wouldn't offer to do this if I didn't think I'd enjoy it," I told him. "I know you'd never force me to do anything."

He sucked in a sharp breath as I freed him from his boxers, taking him between my hands.

I stroked him with my fingers and then brought the flat of my tongue to the base of his erection, slowly licking my way to the tip.

"Jesus…" he groaned. I looked up at him and saw him squeeze his eyes shut as I sealed my lips around him, hallowing out my cheeks as I sucked as hard as I could. "Fuck… Ana…"

I let my instincts take over, exploring him at my own pace. Reacting to his groans, figuring out what he liked, what brought him closer to his release.

His fingers slipped into my hair and gently rubbed the nape of my neck. He didn't rush me, didn't force my head down. He just held me as I gave myself to him.

"God, I love you," he panted, beginning to shudder into my mouth. "So fucking much… Like that, baby. Yes… Fuck –"

* * *

I was sprawled out on the leather couch in Christian's office, the man himself wrapped around me, his head nestled between my breasts. I was completely naked, only covered by him. Our clothes lay in a pile on the floor.

"I don't think I can stand up," I giggled. My legs were still shaking, my breaths still rapid and wheezy. "I'm praying no one walks in on us right now!"

"They won't," he smirked, lifting his head up. "I locked the door."

"No, you didn't," I shook my head, frowning at him.

We went straight from his desk to the couch. He didn't go anywhere near the door…

"There's a button on my desk," he said, laughing at my confusion. "It locks the door. Only Taylor has a key that can open it from the outside, and he knows he should never interrupt us."

"Thank god for that!"

I threw my arms over my head and stretched, feeling a crick between my shoulder-blades. As I arched my back, his lips started to dance across my breasts, his tongue swirling around my nipple and bringing it to a hardened peak.

"Thank you for coming to see me," he breathed. "I like it when you disturb me while I'm working."

"That's because you like the sex," I smiled.

"I like you better," he hummed. "Thank you for my gifts."

"I only gave you one present."

"Two," he corrected. "What you did over there –" he pointed over to his desk, lazily lifting his eyes to mine again. "That was a gift I will treasure forever."

My cheeks warmed again, bunching together as I grinned down at him.

"I enjoyed it," I whispered. I smoothed my fingers through his hair, pushing it back from his face. "I like getting you off… It turns me on, seeing you unravel like that…"

"Now you know why I enjoy pleasuring you so much," he winked. "I love driving you crazy."

"Did you really like it?" I checked. I cocked my head in the direction of his desk. "That?"

"It was out of this world," he confirmed, no hesitation in his reply. "There aren't enough words to describe how amazing that was."

My gulped down the doubt and smiled. He shuffled his way up my body, bringing us nose to nose.

"We should start getting dressed," I told him.

He pressed his hands into the couch on either side of my head, raising his chest up so he could stare down at me.

He narrowed his eyes.

"Mia's throwing me a fucking party, isn't she?" he asked, shaking his head. "That's why she called you earlier, isn't it?"

I licked my lips, not knowing what to say.

"Tell me," he ordered.

I screwed up my face and sighed. I can't lie to him. I don't have it in me.

"It's meant to be a surprise," I muttered.

"I hate surprises."

"Some surprises are nice," I tried to comfort him. "And this is a good surprise, I promise. I think it'll just be family. Not too many people."

"Good or bad, I still hate surprises," he grumbled. "I need to know what's happening. I just… I need to be in control."

"I know," I nodded. "It plays into your trust issues, doesn't it?"

"A little," he hummed.

"Do you trust me?"

"What?" he frowned. "You know I trust you. Implicitly."

"Then you should know that I wouldn't take you somewhere if I thought you couldn't handle it," I said. "You should trust me to know that this is going to be a good thing for you… Come on, this is your family we're talking about!"

"You're not going to let me get out of this, are you?" he grimaced.

"Nope," I shook my head, smiling. "You can't avoid this forever, you know… It's time to break the cycle."

"I'm starting to think you seeing Rhian is a bad thing," he moaned. He dropped down on top of me with a sigh, burying his face in the side of my neck. "I'm probably going to hate every minute of it."

"Tough," I shrugged under him. "I promised I would make sure Cinderella made it to the ball."

"You can fuck off if you think I'm wearing a dress," he grunted.

"Damn it. I had the perfect outfit in mind for you," I sighed, patting his shoulder. "I guess you'll just have to wear another one of your boring suits."

"Boring?" He jerked his head back. "I thought you said you liked me in a suit?"

I giggled at his reaction, unable to hold back my laughter.

"Oh… so that's the game you want to play?" he scowled at me. He reached down and grabbed my hands, forcing them up to my head. "You sure you want to tease me like that, baby?"

"Uh-huh…"

He pushed my legs apart and positioned himself between them, his hips nestling against mine.

"When is the party?"

"We need to be there at seven," I panted.

He checked his watch.

"Hm… that means we've got at least another thirty minutes," he whispered. "Let's see how long you can hold out, shall we?"

"What do you mean, _hold out?_ "

"I'm guessing five minutes," he said, pouting his lips. He pressed my wrists into the couch and pushed his hips deeper into mine, keeping me from moving. "No more than that…"

"Christian," I sighed his name. "What are you talking about?"

"You'll find out soon enough," he smirked.


	21. Chapter Twenty

**A/N: Hello Lovelies. Thank God it's finally Friday! I hope you all have a great weekend.**

 **As always, I hope you enjoy reading this chapter. There's more coming soon!**

 **Much Love,**

 **Chelsea x**

* * *

 **SuzB** – Thank you! I'm really glad you liked the last chapter. They are healing each other, which is great to see. I hope you like this chapter! Much Love x

 **Camillehenley3g** – Thank you! I'm glad you liked it. Ana and Christian seem to instinctively know what the other needs, which just proves how perfectly matched they are. I hope you like this chapter too! Much Love x

 **Susan** – Thank you! I really hope you enjoy this chapter too. Much Love x

 **DoloresDeeHowe** – Thank you! It's hard to write those scenes when Christian reflects on his childhood, but I'm glad he decided to share that with Ana. It shows how much he trusts her! I hope you like this chapter! Much Love x

 **Reds77** – Thank you! I know, poor Christian, not wanting to celebrate his birthday. I have a feeling he will actually enjoy his party, though… I hope you like this chapter! Much Love x

* * *

Christian brought his R8 to a stop on his parents' driveway, slotting it in-between the other cars already parked up. He let out a deep sigh and I saw his shoulders drop, a more relaxed expression spreading over his face. I knew he was counting the number of cars around, checking whether Mia had gone back on her word that it would be just family at the party.

"You ready?" I asked him.

"As I'll ever be," he hummed, glancing up at the house. "Do I have to pretend like I don't know?"

"Unless you want Mia to rip my head off," I snorted. "It'll be fine. I promise."

He nodded his head and popped open his door, swinging out with ease and quickly racing around to my side. I let him help me from the car, his hands fussing over me as he pulled me to my feet. He was nervous. I could feel it radiating from him.

"I thought you were feeling better?" I said, pursing my lips. I slid my arms around his waist and pulled him close to me. "You seemed to perk up earlier…"

A smirk twitched the corners of his mouth as he recalled what we had done in his office before coming here.

"That was fun," he agreed.

"For you," I shot back. I couldn't help but grin as my core clenched, ripples of pleasure still lingering deep inside me. "I don't think I like your idea of _holding out_."

"I let you come eventually," he shrugged, his smirk growing and causing dimples to pierce his cheeks. "You lasted longer than I thought you would. I was impressed."

I didn't tell him that it took all my strength to stop myself from climaxing within seconds of him touching me. He knows where all my buttons are and he knows exactly how to press them. He brought me to the edge of release over and over, before finally allowing me to let go and enjoy the explosion of spasms tearing through my body.

"I know you enjoyed it," he whispered, bringing his mouth to my ear. "And believe me, the thought of getting you home and picking up where we left off is the only thing that will get me through this."

I leaned my head back and stared up at him. Despite the remnants of a smirk on his lips, there was still trepidation and concern etched into his gaze. Even the way he was carrying himself showed how uneasy he felt.

"Trust me?" I checked, offering out my hand for him to take.

"Always," he sighed, nodding as he slipped his palm over mine.

I pulled him towards the house, heading straight for the door and letting myself in. Mia had texted me as we were driving over, explaining that everyone would be waiting for us in the sitting room. The place was eerily quiet as we entered, our gentle movements echoing off the walls.

Leaving our jackets in the coat closet, we set off towards the room at the end of the long hallway. I could feel Christian's palm becoming clammy the nearer we got to the closed door. His fingers started to twitch against mine.

"You never know, you might actually enjoy yourself," I whispered to him.

He rolled his eyes and shook his head. He didn't speak, instead gesturing to the door and signalling for me to open it. He wanted me to head inside first. Use me as a human shield…

The room was in darkness for a few seconds before a shadow grumbled 'now!', light then suddenly flooding the space, followed by a chorus of loud cheers.

From every corner of the room a figure jumped out, setting off party poppers. There were silver and white balloons all over the place, bobbing up and down as his parents weaved around the furniture to approach Christian.

"My darling!" Grace called out, the first to ambush him. She rushed over and threw her arms around his, yanking him down to her height for a hug. "Happy birthday, Christian."

"Thanks," he muttered, bringing his hands up and lightly patting her on the back. He let her hold him for a second before pulling himself upright again. "I can't believe you let Mia arrange this."

"As if we could stop her," Grace winked. "I'm so glad you came."

He gave her a quick smile and nodded his head, his eyes darting to Carrick.

"God, I wish you would stop growing up," Carrick huffed, tightly embracing him. "You're really making me feel old now!"

"At least you're feeling the way you look," Christian quipped. "I think it's time to invest in some _Just for Men_ …"

Carrick laughed off his remarks. He leaned back and studied his son, a grin quickly spreading across his lips.

"Twenty-nine," he shook his head. "It doesn't seem five minutes since I first laid eyes on you… In my mind, you're always going to be that boy. My little boy."

Christian pressed his lips together, the skin over his jaw growing taut again.

"Happy birthday, son," Carrick nodded. His hand slid up to Christian's face and cupped his cheek for a moment. "I couldn't be prouder of the man you have turned out to be."

My chest swelled as I watched the tender moment between father and son play out. I knew Christian was still uncomfortable being under his family's spotlight, but I also knew that this was a good thing for him. None of us can change his past, but we can make sure his present and future are far happier than anything he has experienced to date.

As Christian was swarmed by Elliot and Mia, his parents took the opportunity to offer their hugs and kisses to me. Their welcome was nothing short of warm, as it has always been. It would never cease to amaze me how easily they have welcomed me into their home, their lives - _their family_.

The Greys were not just a loving family – they were the kindest, most gentle people in the world. Their love had no bounds and although Christian has spent his life feeling like the odd one out, it was obvious that he is a Grey at heart. Beneath his hard exterior is a man who feels things more potently than anyone else. A man who has an abundance of love to share with the people he trusts the most.

"You knew, didn't you?" Mia questioned Christian, a slight frown pulling at her brows. He shrugged his shoulders in response. "Are you mad at me?"

"No," he sighed. He stepped forward and threw his arm around Mia's shoulders, drawing her into his chest. He pressed a kiss to her temple. "No, I'm not mad at you."

"You're my big brother. I just wanted to throw you a party," Mia protested, an apologetic tone to her voice. "You deserve it."

Christian didn't say anything back to her, instead choosing to let his actions speak for him. He wrapped both his arms around Mia, hugging her to his chest as he gently rocked her back and forth. It melted my heart. I stole a glance to Grace and could see tears building in her eyes.

"Erm, what about me?" Elliot frowned, shaking his head at Mia. "Where was my surprise party, huh? I'm your big brother too."

"We took you to Aspen," Mia shot back, throwing him a glance from over her shoulder. She didn't want to break away from Christian's hold now that she had him. "And I bought you a Rolex. A very expensive one, I should remind you."

"That I paid for," Christian added. He smirked down at Mia and gave her a wink before slowly easing her out of his arms. "Thank you for the gesture. I appreciate the time and effort you have put into planning this for me."

Mia grinned back at him, relief bringing her shoulders down into their rightful place. I could tell she was apprehensive earlier, when she contemplated cancelling the party altogether. Mia, like everyone else in the family, would never dream of upsetting Christian. I couldn't imagine what it must have been like when Christian was growing up, always having to walk on egg-shells in order to dodge his complex and ever-changing moods…

"I thought we could give you our gifts first, before we sit down for dinner," Mia announced, clapping her hands together. "And, as designated party planner, I think I should go first."

"Sure," Christian shrugged again.

I glanced at the table behind Mia, where a number of gifts were waiting to be opened. Christian instinctively moved towards them, but Mia darted in front of him. She grinned at him and slowly shook her head.

"What is -?"

"You can come in now!" she shouted, almost deafening the rest of us.

Christian and I spun around, footsteps creeping up behind us. Shock took over his face as confusion settled on mine. In the doorway appeared an elderly couple, the woman almost identical to Grace. Just slightly greyer and with a few more wrinkles around her eyes.

"There's no need to shout, Mia," the woman sighed. "We're old, not deaf. We were only standing the other side of the door!"

"Gran?" Christian breathed. I looked up at him and saw his brows lifting into his hairline. "Grandpa? What… what are you doing here?"

"It's your birthday, isn't it?" his grandmother rolled her shoulder, a smirk on her delicate lips. "Did you really think we would miss seeing you on your special day?"

Christian was fixed to the spot, disbelief rooting him to the floor. It took him a few seconds to step forward and greet his grandparents properly. It quickly became obvious that it had been a while since he had last seen them.

"I didn't think you would make the trip," he told them. "No one told me you were coming."

"It would be a shit surprise if you knew we were coming here, don't you think?" his grandfather quipped. "Really, though, it's a wonder you didn't guess. We've never missed your birthday before, have we?"

"No, but –"

"Mia called and explained that she was throwing you a little get-together," his grandmother interrupted, raising her hand to silence him. "And because you're so difficult to buy for, she suggested that we could be your gift from her. So here we are."

"Think of us as a two-for-the-price-of-one gift," his grandfather hummed. He pointed to his wife. "She's the freebie."

His wife rolled her eyes, clearly used to his jokes. Still, I couldn't help but chuckle along with him.

"Now, where is this girlfriend of yours?" his grandmother announced. "Don't keep us in suspense any longer. I didn't fly all this way not to meet her, you know."

Christian smirked and turned his chin to me, his hand extended and waiting for mine. I stepped forward and sidled up next to him, my fingers slipping between the gaps of his.

"This is Anastasia Steele," he said, presenting me to his grandparents.

"Everyone calls me Ana," I quickly told them. "I prefer Ana."

"Ana -" his grandmother repeated my name. Her blue eyes skimmed me from head to toe, her smile widening as she took in every inch of me. She shuffled forward and cupped my cheeks between her warm palms. "You're the girl who has stolen my grandson's heart? Well, I can certainly see why."

"It's lovely to meet you, Mrs Trevelyan," I smiled.

"There's no need for formalities, dear," she shook her head. "I'm Frances. But you can call me Fran… or Gran. I really don't mind."

I gulped down the lump forming in my throat, her kind-heartedness overwhelming me. I have never had a grandmother. Not really. My mom's mother passed away when I was three, Ray's mother died when he was in his teens, and I have no idea about my real father's family. My mother never told me about them. As such, I have missed out on having a stoic matriarch in my life, offering me advice and guidance...

"Come on, Franny, move over. It's my turn to meet the girl!"

Frances let out a small sigh and obligingly moved over, allowing her husband to step closer to me.

He had an enormous grin on his lips, his green eyes wide and twinkling. As he came to stand in front of me, he bowed and held out his hand.

"It is always a pleasure to make the acquaintance of a beautiful young lady," he drawled. He raised my hand to his mouth and pressed a light kiss above my knuckles. I caught Christian grinning in the corner of my eye, enjoying the show his grandfather was putting on. "Theodore Trevelyan. But you, my dear, can call me whatever you like."

"Call him Theo, everybody else does," Frances interjected.

"No need to get jealous, darling," Theo smirked at her, blowing her a kiss. I realised then that Elliot had clearly inherited Theo's charm and wit. He returned his focus to me. "My goodness. The boy has done well for himself. You're a little stunner!"

"Thank you," I replied, shyly.

I felt Christian close the gap between us, his hand splaying against the base of my spine.

"As I'm sure you'll soon realise," he muttered down to me. "My grandfather is the biggest charmer you'll ever meet… and an insufferable flirt, too."

"I'm like a fine wine," Theo hummed. He winked at me. "I only get better with age."

"You're more like vinegar these days," Frances jibed, offering her husband a wry smile. Theo pressed a hand to his chest, feigning an injury. "Leave the girl alone, Theo."

" _Jealous_ ," he mouthed to me. I giggled, my cheeks starting to ache from smiling so hard.

"I'll be keeping my eye on you, Grandpa," Christian said, wagging his finger at Theo. He was several inches taller than his grandfather, and far broader too. "Don't even think about trying to steal my girl."

"I'll fight you for her," Theo winked, bringing up his fists and beginning to bounce on the spot, as if he was going to start boxing with Christian.

He evoked a bout of laughter from everyone in the room.

Christian rolled his eyes and leaned down to kiss my temple, before returning his focus to his grandmother. She took him in her arms, closing her eyes as she rested her face on his chest. I could tell this was the first time she had ever hugged him. It was evident in her expression. I had seen Grace react the same way after Christian had first held her.

"You've changed him," Theo said, jolting my attention back to him. He was smiling down at me. "We have never seen him like this… so happy and relaxed. It's wonderful."

"It really is," I nodded.

"I don't think I will ever be able to thank you enough."

"You don't need to thank me," I quickly shook my head.

"I do," he whispered. He opened out his arms and I stepped into them, accepting a hug. "You have freed my grandson from whatever was holding him back. I can't tell you how many years we have spent worrying about him. The sleepless nights, praying he would find his happiness…"

I pressed my lips together, unsure of what to say.

"I always knew something was missing from his life," he said. "And it was you. All he needed was you."

"We needed each other," I mumbled into his shoulder.

"Thank you for bringing our boy out of his shell," he hummed, squeezing his arms around me. "Welcome to the family."

* * *

Once Christian had opened his gifts, we headed through to the dining room for a lavish, no-expense-spared meal. His family had kept their gifts discreet and small, choosing trinkets instead of anything overwhelming and extravagant. He accepted them with absolute gratitude and grace, thanking everyone in turn. I don't think I have ever seen someone as happy as him to receive a new tie, cufflinks, a wallet and some wine glasses.

The Greys' chef had whipped together a concoction of mouth-watering food, my taste-buds exploring new flavours and textures. I had to stop myself from licking my plates clean, the food tasted so good!

I was sandwiched between Christian on my right and Theo to my left, the latter managing to steal my attention for most of the night. Christian didn't seem to mind at all, though. He was busy chatting to his father, who was sat adjacent to him, Elliot occasionally joining in from across the table.

"So, Gracie told me you work in publishing?" Theo asked as I finally set down my fork, having demolished a second helping of my main. "SIP, isn't it?"

"Yeah," I nodded with a modest smile. "It's a small company but I really enjoy it there."

"What area do you work in?"

"I'm an editor," I explained. "My particular focus is on female-led fiction and historical fiction. But I work on whatever comes my way, really."

"That's usually the case with smaller houses," Theo smiled, knowingly. "Gracie said you held your first book launch recently? Was it for a book you edited?"

I was surprised Grace had told him so much about me.

"I worked closely with the author ahead of publication," I nodded. "And the launch was a huge success. A lot of people came… Although, most of them came to see Christian."

Theo pressed his lips together as he nodded his head, understanding what I was implying.

"Try to find the positive from it," he urged me, lowering his voice a little. "There will always be people who are fascinated with my grandson. He's an enigma. No one quite understands what is going on behind his eyes. No one knows what he's thinking or what move he'll make next. People are interested in the mysterious and because he doesn't play up to the attention, it simply attracts more people to him. The important thing is how you utilise the attention. Shift it off you and onto other things."

That is what Christian does. Despite the fact he detests press intrusion, he will use their interest in him to highlight his work with Coping Together or the other organisations he donates to. He shifts the spotlight off himself and it not only helps him maintain his privacy, it helps benefit the causes he supports. It's a win-win situation.

"The people who came to the launch because they wanted to see Christian will have promoted the book for you," Theo continued. "On their social-whatever-it's-called. They will have told others where they were going, what they bought, and that will have gotten the word out. Their fleeting fascination will have gained you the right audience by-proxy... See it as a blessing. They're saving your marketing department a job!"

I grinned at him, knowing that he was right.

I didn't get my job because of Christian. He helped me get my foot in the door, yes, but I impressed Mark with my attitude and determination.

And no one at SIP gives a shit about who I'm dating.

Well, except Mark. But that's for very different reasons…

"You seem to know exactly what you're talking about," I observed. "Did you used to work in business, like Christian?"

"God, no," he snorted, shaking his head. "No, I was a high school teacher. I taught literature."

"You did?" My brows shot up my forehead. "Wow. I would never have guessed."

"You didn't wonder who my Gracie gets her love of the classics from?" he said, tilting his head. "I used to spend hours reading to her when she was a child. I lost track of how many times we read _Wuthering Heights_ together."

I smiled as I thought of the first edition Emily Brontë's Grace had shown me, before Christian later surprised me with _Jane Eyre_. I haven't read from them yet – they are too precious for that - but they have taken pride of place in my library.

"That's amazing," I grinned at him. "We'll have to sit down and talk about your favourite books one day. I'd love to pick your brains."

"I would love that," he nodded back at me. His gaze flickered across the table to Frances. "You know, I met my Franny in the first school I taught in. Every Monday afternoon she ran a dance class. The real stuff, none of this hip-hop nonsense. I'm talking waltz, foxtrot, quickstep."

"Really?"

"She used to be a professional," he said proudly, his eyes lighting up. "She was incredible. Sadly, injury and illness forced her to retire but she still teaches now and then. Bit slower than she used to be, but she's always the first to get on the dancefloor."

"Maybe she can teach me a thing or two," I chuckled. "I think I was born with two left feet!"

"You and me both, my dear," Theo winked.

The light chatter circling around the table came to a hush as Christian rose to his feet, clearing his throat to garner everyone's attention. He held his wine glass close to his chest, swirling the contents every few seconds.

"I'll keep this short and sweet because all of you know how much I hate making speeches," he began. "But I wanted to say a few words, mostly to say thank you for coming together tonight to celebrate my birthday."

I detected a slight grimace on his lips as he said those words. I reached out with my fingers and gently stroked the outside of his knee. He cast his eyes down and smiled, silently thanking me.

He inhaled a deep breath and turned his face to Mia.

"Thank you for arranging all of this," he said to her. Mia broke into a broad grin, her brown eyes wide and full of excitement. "You know I hate parties and the fuss, but I have actually enjoyed this evening."

"You have?"

He nodded his head.

"I really appreciate the effort you have gone to, both tonight and every other day," he said. "You have the purest heart in the world and, to me, you will always be my baby sister... Even if you are almost as tall as me now."

She snorted a laugh and blew him a kiss.

"Elliot," Christian sighed, twisting towards his brother. "I suppose I _have_ to thank you for something…"

"Damn right you do!" Elliot nodded, his lips peeling back to reveal one of his award-winning smiles.

Christian smirked at him.

"I know we've had a pretty turbulent relationship over the years," he began. "It hasn't always been easy… I haven't always been the easiest person to get along with, but the support you have given me in the past few months has been amazing… I hope that our relationship and our friendship continue to only grow stronger."

"I mean, you can just call it a bromance, dude," Elliot hummed, shrugging his shoulders.

"You're still my brother, so I'd rather not," Christian shook his head. "Seriously, though, I couldn't have gotten through half the crap that has been thrown my way recently if it wasn't for your support. So thank you."

Elliot simply winked at his brother, saying no more on the subject. He tipped his glass in salute and took a sip.

Christian smiled and shifted to address his grandparents.

"Gran, Grandpa," he hummed. "Thank you for travelling all this way to spend tonight with me. I know I haven't seen you that much over the past year, but I promise I will make more time to come see you in Florida."

"Only if you promise to bring Ana with you!" Theo added.

I looked over at him and smiled as I caught him mouthing the words 'she's a keeper' to Christian.

"I know, Grandpa," Christian nodded, his cheeks starting to blush. "I promise I will spend more time with the both of you. I have always loved spending time with you."

Frances placed both her hands over her heart and smiled up at Christian, the apples of her cheeks turning rosy under the strain of her grin. The pride emanating from both her and Theo was palpable. Like everyone else, they were in complete awe of Christian. In awe of the transformation in him.

"Mom, Dad," Christian continued, darting his eyes between both ends of the table. "I never know what to say to either of you, because nothing I say will ever be enough. I can never thank you enough for all that you have done for me. You chose me to become a part of this wonderful, albeit dysfunctional family."

A ripple of laughter swam around the table.

"But in doing so, you also gave me a chance for a better life. You gave me safety and security. You gave me unconditional love – a love that until only recently I have come to understand. And, for all of that, I will be forever indebted to you. I couldn't ask for better parents. I love you both."

Carrick raised his glass, his eyes creasing as he beamed up at Christian. Grace, meanwhile, pressed her fingers to her lips and lightly shook her head, trying to stave off the tears building in her eyes.

"And finally –"

Christian slowly spun to face me. He turned up his palm, urging me to put my hand in his.

"My Ana," he breathed, curling his fingers around mine.

As I met his gaze, my surroundings started to melt away, as if it was only the two of us left in the room.

"Never in my wildest dreams did I think I would be as lucky to meet someone like you. Someone who is honest, kind, so full of love and understanding. You have accepted me and my many, _many_ flaws."

"Not that many," I whispered.

"You have brought out the best in me, and you have shown me that it's okay to be vulnerable – that I don't always need to be an uptight, grumpy asshole." He quickly lifted his eyes to Grace. "Sorry, Mom."

I bit down on my lip to stop myself from laughing.

"Ana, I don't think I will ever understand what you see in me or why you chose me as your partner," he added, returning his grey eyes to me. "But I know that I am the luckiest man in the world. My family saved me from a life of poverty and abuse, but you saved me from myself… You're my soulmate. You're my everything and I love you."

He bent down and pressed his lips to mine before slipping back down into his chair. He kept hold of my hand, twisting his fingers around mine until they settled in the gaps that belonged to him.

The room was wrapped in silence and as I glanced around the table, I realised there wasn't a dry eye in the house. Elliot was near to sobbing, having to scrunch his face to stop himself from bawling. Even Theo was welling up, wiping a lone tear from under his left eye.

Christian gulped, mimicking me and looking around at everyone.

"Jesus," he snorted, shaking his head at them. "All of you need to lay off the alcohol, it's making you emotional… Now that's out of the way, did you remember to get me a cake?"

My stomach twisted as he asked that question, his revelations from earlier springing into the forefront of my mind. Does he worry every year whether or not he'll receive a birthday cake?

"Of course we did," Mia smiled, nodding eagerly. "Like we'd forget the cake!"

She rose from the table and headed for the door, calling out into the hallway and asking for the cake to be brought through to us.

"I hope you made sure it's chocolate," Christian told her. "That lemon thing you got me last year was disgusting. You know I only like chocolate."

"Don't worry," Mia sighed. "I've learnt my lesson. There isn't anything but chocolate on this cake, I promise."

"Glad to hear it…"

I edged closer to Christian and dropped my head onto his shoulder. I felt his cheek coming to rest against the top of my head.

"Have you really enjoyed yourself?"

"Yes," he quietly hummed. "You were right. There was nothing to be scared of."

His lips pressed a kiss into my hair.

"I didn't know what to say, so I just spoke from my heart," he whispered.

"I know you did," I nodded, my lips curling into a smile. I squeezed his hand. "I know how much you love chocolate cake."

He chuckled to himself. It was a glorious sound that sent shivers through my entire body.

While I didn't think Christian was fully converted to celebrating his birthday, I could feel his anxiety starting to dissipate.

It would take time to exorcise the demons in his past but whether it takes one year or twenty, I'll be right there with him. Helping him to overcome his past. I will be there every step of the way. Like he has been at my side through all of my ups and downs since the fire.

We will find our freedom. I don't know how or when it will happen, but it will. I am sure of it.

And until that day comes, we have family and chocolate cake to help us through.


	22. Chapter Twenty One

**A/N: Hello Lovelies.**

 **Just a warning that there will be a delay between this chapter and the next. I had surgery yesterday to remove my wisdom tooth – which was severely impacted in my lower jaw and, being an absolute idiot, I opted to have it taken out with local anaesthetic. Needless to say, I'm in agony at the moment and I don't think I'll be up for writing any more this week. I will endeavour to update as soon as possible.**

 **I hope you enjoy this chapter.**

 **Thank you for the reviews I received on the last chapter – both from people who signed in and guests. I'll resume responding to named guests in the next chapter, for now I just want to post this so I can climb back into bed and sleep.**

 **Much Love,**

 **Chelsea x**

 **PS – If you have any advice on how to manage pain after dental surgery or any tips on how to make myself feel better, please let me know x**

* * *

I exhaled a heavy sigh as the elevator doors opened, the warm glow of the apartment welcoming me home. It had been a long day and I was looking forward to kicking off my shoes and filling my stomach with carbs, carbs and more carbs.

"Are you hungry?" Christian asked, his hand settling in the base of my spine as we stepped out of the elevator.

I tilted my head back and smiled at him. He had met me at SIP an hour ago and patiently waited until I was ready to leave. He didn't grumble or even so much as glance at his watch. He was happy to sit and wait, content in my presence.

"I'm okay for now," I said. I turned into him and pushed my arms around his waist, hugging him tightly. "I think I'll take a shower first."

His eyes lit up, sordid thoughts racing through his mind. I rolled my eyes at him. After last night, I would have thought he'd need a break…

Arriving home from his birthday party late last night, I thought we would go straight to bed and collapse into slumber. I should have known Christian had different ideas in mind. He was all over me. We had barely made it out of the elevator before my clothes were being peeled from my body.

His lips curled into a smile as he held me against his chest. I pushed up onto my toes to kiss him.

"Are we heading back over to your parents' house tonight?" I asked.

"No," he shook his head. "Why would we?"

"Because your grandparents are still here," I hummed, narrowing my eyes. "I figured you would want to spend some more time with them."

"I spoke to Grandpa earlier," he explained. "They're going to stay at Bellevue for a little while. For a couple weeks, at least." He grinned at me. "I don't think they're ready to go back to Florida. They haven't had nearly enough time with you yet."

My cheeks warmed. I looked forward to spending more time with Theo and Frances. My new honorary grandparents.

Christian brought his mouth to mine and smoothed a slow, seductive kiss onto my lips. His head tilted to the side, the tip of his nose brushing against mine. His hands massaged their way up and down my back.

"But tonight, you're all mine," he whispered.

I moaned into his mouth, my fingers reaching up to his hair as I sank into his kiss. But my moan turned into a sigh as I felt something vibrating against my hip.

A frown settled on my brow as I peeled my head from his.

"Don't look at me," Christian chuckled. His eyes dropped to my waist. "It's your phone, not mine."

"It is?"

He stepped back, giving me room to dig into my pants pocket to find my phone. It surprised me to see that it was, indeed, my phone that was buzzing, but more so seeing Ray's number flashing back at me.

"Answer it," Christian told me, smiling.

He pecked a kiss to my temple and walked away, heading towards the kitchen to give me some privacy.

"Hi Dad," I answered the call, pushing the phone up to my ear.

"Hey Annie." Ray's voice was light and breezy, his soft tone relaxing me in an instant. "How's it going, baby girl?"

"Good," I told him. "I've only just got home from work."

"Busy day, huh?"

"Very," I hummed. I shuffled over to the couches and dropped into the corner of the L-shaped sofa, bringing my knees up to my chest. "How are you?"

"You know me, my glass is always half-full," he hummed. "I just wanted to call and check something with you. I'm going to mail Carla's birthday present tomorrow and I wanted to know if I should stick your name on it?"

A frustrated sigh escaped me at the mere mention of my mother.

I would never be able to understand how or why Ray was still committed to showing my mother nothing but love and kindness after all she had put him through. He still worships the ground she walks on, won't allow anyone to say a bad word about her. Whenever I have moaned about her to him, he becomes Switzerland and tries to act as the bridge between us.

As part of his undying love for her, Ray never fails to send her birthday and Christmas presents ever year, despite divorcing almost a decade ago.

And does she ever return the gesture? Does she ever thank him for it?

Hell no.

My mother cheated on him, treated him like a doormat for years, literally tore our family apart and it's like nothing happened. Ray forgave everything.

 _Maybe he's just a better person than most… I wouldn't be able to forgive all of that…_

I haven't forgiven my mother for what she did to Ray. To our family. And for everything else that has unfolded since.

It had been a longstanding tradition that Ray would add my name to whatever gift he bought for my mother. Her birthday isn't until mid-July but he prefers to send the package early, to make sure she gets it on time.

"No," I grumbled, pinching the bridge of my nose. "I'll send her something myself."

"You will?" he checked, shock seeping into his voice. "That's great, Annie. I'm sure she'll appreciate that."

 _If she even bothers to open the package…_

There was a pause down the line and I knew Ray was preparing himself to launch into the 'have you thought about making the first move?' conversation.

"Have you spoken to Carla recently?"

And there it is.

"No," I replied.

"Right…" he muttered. "When was the last time you talked to her?"

"About five months ago," I shrugged. "Maybe longer."

"Oh Annie…"

"You know this is just the way things are between me and her," I snapped back at him, angrier than I had intended. I sighed again. "She has her life and I have mine."

"But it shouldn't be like that," Ray moaned. "She's your mother."

"When was the last time she actually acted like one?" I huffed. "If she can't be bothered to make any effort, why should I? You know what she did."

"And it was wrong of her," he agreed. "She shouldn't have done that. I was annoyed with her too, Annie, but she's still your mother. We all make mistakes."

"That wasn't a mistake," I said. "She knew exactly what she was doing… Look, Dad, I'll send her a gift and a card but that's it. If she wants to talk, I'll listen to what she has to say. But I'm not doing all the legwork again."

Ray took a deep breath but didn't press the matter.

"Okay, baby girl," he sighed. "You can't blame a guy for trying, huh?"

"At least you're consistent," I smiled.

"Never anything but," he snorted. "So, when am I going to see you again? It's been too long."

"You saw me a couple weeks ago!"

"I'm starting to forget what you look like…"

"Fat chance of that ever happening," I laughed. "Dad, your house is covered in photos of me! It's like a bloody shrine in there."

"I'm proud of my daughter, there's no harm in that," he replied. "But nothing beats the real thing. Feel like coming to see your old man this weekend?"

"I'd love to. I'm pretty sure I'm free, but I'll check and let you know."

"Fine by me," he said. "Just so long as I get to see my girl."

"You will," I hummed to him, my cheeks pinching with a smile. "I love you, Dad."

"Love you too. See you soon?"

"Definitely."

I ended the call and dropped my phone onto the couch. I slumped into the cushions around me and let out a long breath.

"Is everything okay?"

Christian appeared in front of me, clutching an orange juice in his hand. He took a sip, eyeing me over the rim of the glass.

I nodded my head.

"I wasn't eavesdropping," he began, "But I couldn't help overhearing. Who were you talking to Ray about?"

"My mom," I muttered. I crossed my arms around myself. I hated how defensive I feel whenever I think about her. "It's her birthday next month. Ray is mailing her a gift tomorrow. He wanted to know if he should add my name to his present."

"Right," Christian hummed. He strode over and sat down beside me, draping his arm along the back of the couch. "You hardly ever talk about your mother."

"I know."

"I sense that you're not close to her?" he wondered. I nodded. "Can I ask why?"

I studied his intrigue and prepared myself to tell him. I dropped my gaze, suddenly feeling uncomfortable.

"It's ridiculous," I said. "After everything you've told me about what your birth mother did to you, this shit with my mom is nothing in comparison. It's pathetic."

"Hey –"

His fingers tucked under my chin and gently eased my head up. I met his eyes and found them narrow with concern.

"It's not a competition," he told me. "And I'm sure it isn't ridiculous or pathetic. It can't be either of those things if whatever's happened has genuinely upset you."

I pursed my lips together and took a second to gather my scattered thoughts. I didn't even know where to start.

"She married Ray when I was just a baby," I muttered, my voice a little shaky. "When I was growing up, I was always closer to Ray. I'm more like him than my mom, despite the fact we're not blood related."

"Elliot is just like Grandpa," he shrugged. "Sometimes you inherit traits from being around someone. Other times it's simply because you love them."

I smiled at his comment.

"I think it used to bother my mom," I explained. "I think she was jealous that I wanted to spend more time with Ray than her… We became even more distant when I found out she had cheated on him."

His brows rose, his eyes widening.

"She had cheated on him several times. It started when I was three years old. Obviously, I didn't find out any of this until much later. I think there were four different guys over the years."

"Did Ray know?"

"He forgave her every time," I nodded. "When I asked him about it not that long ago, he said he knew whenever she had cheated. He said he could feel it whenever he tried to hug her, said it was like she was there but her mind was always somewhere else."

"Why did he put up with it?" Christian frowned. "Why didn't he leave her?"

"He told me it's because he loved her," I shrugged. "But, deep down, I know I'm the reason he stayed."

"What do you mean?"

"Ray never adopted me," I revealed. "They never filed the paperwork. My mom changed my surname when she married him, but only because she said she wanted us have the same name. She became a Steele, so I became one too."

"And because Ray didn't adopt you, if he divorced your mother he wouldn't get custody?" he guessed.

"I think he was scared that my mom would take me away and never let him see me," I nodded my head. "So he allowed her to treat him like shit because of me."

"If that doesn't show you how much he loves you, I don't know what does," Christian shook his head.

"I don't know if he would have left her once I was older," I shrugged. "My mom left him a few days after my thirteenth birthday. She met some guy called Stephen, had been sleeping with him for a little while, and then she decided she wanted to be with him permanently."

"She just left?"

"Packed her bags and was gone in a couple of hours," I confirmed. "She tried to make me go with her but I refused. I screamed at her and I said some horrible things, stuff I shouldn't have… She left without me and that was it."

"She allowed you to stay with Ray?"

"She didn't have a choice," I snorted. "I told her I would run away if she didn't. I said I would rather die than go with her… I was a bit dramatic back then."

"All teenagers are," Christian smiled. He lifted his hand to my cheek and gently stroked the back of his fingers along my jaw. "Did your mother stay with Stephen?"

"She married him," I nodded. "They were together for about four years. I don't know why their marriage ended. Maybe she cheated on him and he couldn't handle it? She's moved onto husband number four now."

"Jesus!" he blew out his cheeks. "Is she trying to give Elizabeth Taylor a run for her money?"

I smirked at him, suppressing a giggle.

"Was it just her affairs that damaged your relationship?" he asked.

I inhaled a deep breath and shook my head.

"We had a huge argument last year," I said. "After I graduated from college."

"What happened?"

"Well, it started about six months earlier," I frowned. "She had moved to Savannah because Bob had been relocated there. Bob is her new husband… She kept asking me to fly out there to see her but I was too busy. It wasn't a lie or an excuse. I was too busy studying."

Christian nodded his head, knowing that I had poured my heart and soul into my studies.

"She got moody with me and stopped talking to me for a while," I continued. "And then she got engaged to Bob."

"Right…"

"I found out on Facebook," I added. "She didn't even bother telling herself. I had to read it on a stupid post someone put on her wall."

"Fuck's sake."

"Tell me about it," I hummed. I shrugged my shoulders. "But the worst part? She arranged the wedding to take place in the middle of my finals. She expected me to drop everything so I could be her bridesmaid."

"And fuck up your education?" he scowled. "Is she crazy?"

"Or incredibly selfish," I huffed. "I told her no and she went postal. She said I was being selfish for not wanting to celebrate the fact she had finally found her _Prince Charming_ … She called me an ungrateful bitch, so I told her to fuck off and enjoy her wedding. I slammed the phone down on her."

"Sounds like you did the right thing," he muttered. "She was being selfish, not you."

"Needless to say, I didn't go to the wedding," I sighed. "And she retaliated by not coming to my graduation."

Christian shook his head, growing annoyed on my behalf.

"Ray tried to act as a go-between," I said. "He told her the day of my graduation – he bought her and Bob tickets to the ceremony, he even paid for their flights!"

"And they didn't come?"

I shook my head. "She told Ray she was coming but just before the plane was due to take off, she texted him to say she couldn't make it. She had to pack for her honeymoon and, clearly, that was more important to her."

"I'm so sorry," he apologised. He shuffled closer to me and wrapped me in his arms, pulling me into his chest. He kissed the top of my head. "She should have put you first. You're her only child, for crying out loud."

"When she got back from honeymoon, she tried to make amends," I revealed, burying my face into his collarbone. "She sent me this really ugly fruit bowl. She told me she had started taking pottery classes and she'd made it for me… She didn't. She forgot to peel off a sticker underneath that said it cost her two dollars."

"Was that the bowl you used to keep your keys in, back in your old apartment?"

"Yup," I nodded. "Kate asked me to keep it because she really liked it. If it was up to me, I'd have thrown it out of the window."

"I'm sorry your mother is such a selfish bitch," he said, hugging me tight. "I know I haven't met her, but –"

"No, she is a bitch," I agreed. "You're right… I don't like talking about her because it just makes me feel angry. That's why I've never told you about her."

"I can understand why you would want to keep that to yourself," he whispered. "It's hard to open up about stuff like that."

"But you told me about your mom."

"Because I had to," he said. I raised my head and met his gaze. "Baby, I had to tell you about my past because it was eating me alive. I knew our relationship couldn't survive if I kept that from you. It would destroy us."

"I'm the only person you let in," I mumbled.

"Well, aside from Flynn," he smirked.

"Oh yeah, can't forget about him," I winked. I felt the tension in my chest starting to slip away. "At least you know now. Don't expect to ever have a warm welcome from my mother. She doesn't even bother to check in to see how I am."

"You have my family now," he said, fixing me with a beautifully soft smile. "And they love you to the moon and back."

"I love them too."

"And you have Ray," he added. "He would do anything for you."

"I know," I sighed. "I'm lucky to have him."

"Would you like to go see him?"

"Yeah… He asked me if I want to head down there at the weekend."

"No, I mean tonight," Christian said. I frowned at him, a little confused and stunned by his suggestion. "We can have dinner with him, if he's available."

"Are you serious?"

"That's if you don't mind a change from our plans," he shrugged. "Personally, I'm okay with it. I don't mind sharing you with the other man in your life."

He winked and I giggled, nuzzling back into his chest.

"Well, do you want to go see him?"

"It's a long drive to Portland," I said, scrunching up my face in disappointment. "We'd have to –"

"It's a long drive, yes," he interrupted me, rolling his eyes. "But it's a short flight in Charlie Tango. We can be there in no time at all."

I jerked my head back, my eyes widening. I already knew that I wasn't going to pass up the opportunity to see Ray, my hand instinctively reaching for my phone to call him back.

"So that's a yes?" Christian grinned, clocking my wandering fingers. I nodded. "Good. You call Ray and tell him we'll be there in an hour. I'll make the arrangements to have Charlie Tango prepared for us."

"Thank you, thank you, thank you," I exclaimed, launching myself onto him. I squeezed my arms around his waist. I felt a small laugh brewing inside his chest. "Thank you."

"Don't thank me," he whispered. "Nothing is too much for you, Ana. If you want something, I'll make it happen. You can always count on me for that."

* * *

We landed on a rooftop in downtown Portland shortly before 7:30pm, Charlie Tango providing us with a smooth flight. I was utterly mesmerised by Christian and the way he took control of the helicopter, raising it from the ground and gliding it seamlessly through the skies. I had seen him flying when we were in London, when we trailed the River Thames in a rented helicopter and even then it had been magical, but nothing could compare to watching him behind the wheel of his very own pride and joy. He was in his element and it was a pleasure to witness.

Christian arranged for a driver to meet us off the helipad, escorting us down to an all-black Audi, ready to take us to Ray's house. I felt my stomach bubble with excitement the nearer we got to my childhood home. I would never outgrow the inexplicable joy I feel when I see Ray's Cape Cod style house, with the creaky second step leading up to the porch and the slightly wonky doorknocker.

Equally, I would never outgrow a hug from the only father I've ever known.

"Annie," Ray purred in my ear as he tugged me into his arms. "I'm so glad you're here."

"So am I," I buzzed, resting my chin on his shoulder. I took a deep breath and let my senses be filled with his familiar scent of percolated coffee and fabric softener. "It's good to be home."

I hugged Ray for a few seconds longer before stepping back, letting him greet Christian as I slipped off my jacket. I stepped out of my shoes and placed them in the empty space next to Ray's boots.

"And I'm glad you're here, too," Ray said to Christian, patting him on the shoulder as they shook hands. "Come on through, I'll get all of us something to drink."

Christian and I moved through to the lounge while Ray headed off to the kitchen. I gravitated to the two-seater couch in the corner and dropped down onto the left-hand side. This had always been my spot. The cushions welcomed me, moulding perfectly around my body, remembering my shape and weight. I sighed and felt my lips curling into a relaxed grin.

"Comfortable?" Christian smirked.

"Very," I nodded.

He sat down next to me, crossing his legs. His hand settled on top of my foot as I brought my legs up onto the sofa, my feet pressing into his thigh.

Ray returned with three mugs, steaming coffees for him and Christian and a tea for me.

"Thank you," Christian smiled, accepting his mug and resting it on his knee.

"Thanks, Dad," I hummed, taking my tea and quickly sipping at the caramel-coloured brew. "Perfect, as always."

Ray flopped down into the armchair opposite, groaning as he settled, kicking out his knee in discomfort. It was high-time he had it replaced, after years of constant pain. But my father was pedantic as well as humble.

 _As long as it hasn't fallen off, I don't need anyone poking and prodding at it._ That's his usual line whenever I mention surgery.

My eyes shifted to the table next to his armchair, where a neatly wrapped giftbox was strung up with a bow.

"What did you buy Mom?" I asked.

"Just some of those crystal ornaments she likes," Ray shrugged.

He lifted his eyes to me and gave me a look that said 'we won't talk about her anymore today'. I was grateful for the reprieve, giving him an appreciative smile.

"Things still going well in Seattle?" Ray asked us, his gaze darting between me and Christian. "Any problems I should know about?"

I rolled my eyes. Christian took the helm on my behalf.

"No, things are great," he replied. "Work is going well for the both of us. It keeps us busy, doesn't it?"

"It sure does," I agreed, taking another gulp of my tea. I could see Ray eye-balling me from over the brim of my mug.

"Managed to get out on the boat?"

"Not yet," Christian shook his head. "When you next come to visit us, I'll cast her out and we'll see what the Sound has to offer."

"Looking forward to it," Ray nodded, cracking a brief smile. He glanced at Christian for a few seconds before returning his focus to me.

I knew what he was doing.

"Dad, I'm fine," I told him in a sigh. "Really, I'm fine."

"I know you've been hiding stuff from me," he said. Not quite a grumble, but getting there. "I can tell, Annie. I'm not stupid. I know you haven't been doing all that great recently."

I shot a glance to Christian and he shook his head, confirming that he hadn't spoken to Ray behind my back.

"Just tell me, Annie," Ray pressed. "I need to know what's going on with you. It's worrying the crap of out me."

"I'm okay," I sighed, shaking my head at him. "Better than I was… I still have my ups and downs."

"But are you having more downs than ups?" he asked.

I shrugged my shoulders. "More recently? I'd say there's been more ups… or at the very least I'm stable."

He nodded, relief flooding his expression.

"I don't want you to worry about me, Dad," I urged him. "I just want to get back to normal. Get back to how things were before everything happened."

"And are you?"

"Am I what?"

"Getting back to how you were?"

"Somewhat," I hummed. "I'm feeling less emotional… I feel like I'm starting to get a handle on my thoughts."

"Therapy is helping you, isn't it?" Christian said, coming to my support. His fingers curled around my toes, a gentle squeeze pressing comfort into my skin. "I've certainly noticed a change in you."

"You have?" I asked. He nodded his head and smiled at me. "I do feel like I'm finally getting somewhere with Rhian."

"Rhian's your therapist, right?" Ray checked.

"And she's amazing," I confirmed with a defiant nod. "She understands me. The way she describes things, it makes me see stuff differently… I actually look forward to seeing her every week."

"That's amazing," Ray grinned. He relaxed back into his seat, exhaling a long breath, as if he had been holding it for months. "You don't know how pleased I am to hear that, Annie. I was really worried about you."

"There's no need, Dad."

"But after I told you about José," he shook his head. His cheeks started to pink with embarrassment. "I shouldn't have mentioned him to you. As soon as I told you, I knew I had done the wrong thing."

I pressed my lips together as I thought back to that conversation. He had told me about José taking a piece of glass to his skin, attempting to cut out the tattoo of my name on his chest. I had crumbled after hearing that, an intense wave of sadness crashing over me.

"It wasn't your fault," I told Ray. I forced a smile. "I made you tell me. I pressured you into it."

"I'm your father, I should have known better."

"Ana can be extremely persistent," Christian added. He glanced at me from the corner of his eye. "She's stubborn, too."

Ray snorted, agreeing with him.

"It's why I love her so much," Christian winked at me. "Well, one of many reasons."

I smoothed my hand over his, thanking him for his input. He always knows exactly the right way to lighten a conversation.

That was one of many reasons why I loved him so much.

I raised my eyes to Ray again. "Have you heard anything else about José and how he's doing?"

Ray frowned and waved his hand disapprovingly.

"I don't think we should get into that," he said. "The last thing I want is to upset you again."

My stomach lurched. It was a red flag but my brain was pressing me on, telling me I needed to hear whatever the truth was.

"It's okay," I promised. "I can handle it, Dad. You can tell me."

"Annie –"

There was reluctance in his eyes and I told myself that if he didn't want to tell me, I would let it drop. If I had to, I would push it from my thoughts and simply enjoy dinner with my father and boyfriend.

But after a while, I saw Ray's barrier starting to lower. He tilted his head to the side and grimaced.

"Last week was a mixed one for him," he sighed. He gulped hard and licked his thin lips. "It started off pretty badly, but apparently he was feeling better by the weekend."

"How badly?"

"The nurses found more cuts on him," Ray frowned. "They asked him how he got them, but he wouldn't tell them what happened… He's been experiencing a lot of mood-swings, too. Big José told me he can go from catatonic to frothing at the mouth with rage, from one extreme to the other."

I slowly nodded my head. Rhian had told me it's normal to experience heightened emotions in the aftermath of any trauma, particularly after the kind of torture José must have endured while he was being held captive.

"Has José met with a new psychiatrist yet?" Christian asked, his brow lifting with curiosity. "He already saw an on-call therapist, didn't he? When he first arrived at the new clinic?"

"Yeah," Ray nodded. "His new therapist saw him a couple days ago. Some guy from LA, I think. He's meant to be one of the best in the country, so hopefully José will respond to whatever treatment they decide to offer him."

"Fingers crossed," Christian hummed.

"How often to you talk to José's dad?" I asked Ray. "Are you and him still close?"

"Don't worry, nothing's changed between us," he smiled at me, sensing my growing worry. I had been concerned that after what had unfolded in Maîtrise, Ray's friendship with Mr Rodriguez would be irrevocably damaged. "I talk to him when I get a chance. He's pretty busy looking after José, but we catch up when we can."

"That's good," I nodded, breathing a sigh of relief. "Do you ever talk about me? With him?"

"Sometimes," Ray shrugged. "Big José does ask me about you, how you're coping, stuff like that. He knows you were a victim too…"

 _At least he doesn't hate me… I guess it's just José and Rachel wishing I'd drop off the face of the earth._

"And I'm sure José will figure that out too," Ray smiled. "It's just taking him a little longer."

 _Because he endured far worse than any of us put together_ , I thought to myself. _And his pain and suffering isn't showing any signs of easing_ …

"Well, we can only hope he starts feeling better soon," I mumbled, tilting my head to the side. I cupped my hands around my mug of tea, trying to focus on the warmth spreading through my palms.

Christian's hand moved up to my ankle, drawing my eyes back to him. He gave me a quick smile and I nodded, to assure him that I was feeling okay.

"I need to use the bathroom," I announced, quickly swinging my feet off the couch and setting my mug onto the coffee table. I pushed off the couch and quickly headed for the door.

"You okay, Annie?" Ray said, sitting forward on his seat.

I shot my head up and smiled at him, pressing my hand into the doorframe. Both he and Christian were staring at me, concern in their gazes.

"I'm fine. I just need to pee, that's all. I'll be back in a minute," I told them. "We should order some dinner soon. I'm starting to feel hungry."

It was a cheap shot, but I knew it would get Christian to back down.

I bolted from the room before either of them could interrogate me further, taking the stairs two at a time and dipping straight into the bathroom opposite.

I sighed as I sat down on the closed toilet seat and hung my body forward, my elbows pressing on my knees as my head fell into my hands.

It wasn't that I was panicking or feeling distressed, but I could feel my pulse starting to whoosh in my ears, the back of my neck beginning to prickle with sweat.

I always feel this way when I think of José and what he must be going through. When I think of what that monster did to him.

I closed my eyes and tried to realign my thoughts. I took a deep breath and held it for a few seconds, exhaling it in a slow and steady stream until my lungs were empty. Just like Rhian says in the audio clips she emailed me. I have been listening to them every day.

 _With every breath you exhale, let your shoulders drop to the floor. Feel the tension slipping away as your chest deflates. Focus on the idea of all those negative, difficult thoughts leaving your body._

 _And as you breathe in, remember that you are inhaling a cleaner breath._

 _Out with the old, in with the new… Exhale the darkness, inhale the light…_

I did this for about a minute, really taking my time. As quickly as the edginess had come over me, it started to break down and exit my thoughts. I had stopped it in its tracks, bringing the anxiety to a standstill before it took over.

God bless Rhian Flynn.

I sat back and raised my head, opening eyes to Ray's blue and white tiled bathroom.

I reminded myself that José is in the safest place possible right now. He is surrounded by people who care about him. He has a team of people around him who want to help him.

I recited this over and over, until I believed the words.

Needing to keep up pretences, I turned around and flushed the toilet. I moved over to the basin and washed my hands, holding my wrists under the cold-water faucet and enjoying the coolness trickling over my palms and fingers.

As I dried my hands, I stared into the mirror hanging over the sink. I studied my reflection, seeing a fresh-faced girl with a clear and calm complexion. She didn't look sad or paranoid. She didn't look like somebody on the brink of a breakdown. She didn't look weak or vulnerable, like she has in recent months.

"We're starting to get better, aren't we?" I asked the girl in the mirror. "I can feel it. We're not at one hundred percent normal yet, but we're getting there."

I tidied up my ponytail and nodded to my mirror self before leaving the bathroom. I rushed back down the staircase and peered my head into the lounge, finding the room empty. Padding down the hall, I approached the kitchen and began to hear hushed voices from inside.

I stopped at the doorway and leaned against the frame as I watched Ray poking around inside a drawer, looking for the many takeout flyers he hoards. I smiled as I saw Christian propped against the counter, his back to me. I wondered if he was trying to hold his tongue, stopping himself from telling Ray that he could just order dinner from an app on his phone.

They were exchanging quiet words, too low for me to grasp what was being said, but it was a beautiful sight to behold. My two favourite men chatting, getting along and enjoying each other's company.

Ray closed the drawer, clutching a flyer in his hand, and snapped his head up to Christian. He was statuesque for a moment before he broke into a grin, his mouth splitting and spreading wide across his face. He nodded his head and loudly patted Christian on the shoulder. Christian looked just as happy with whatever had been decided between them, twisting his body and affording me a glimpse at his face. He was grinning, too.

"What did I miss?" I called out to them.

They turned their heads to me, neither of their smiles dropping. Ray's smirk drew higher on his lips, his eyes creasing in the corners.

"I suggested we order dinner from Rico's," he said to me, waving the flyer for his favourite restaurant. "You know I love their steaks, even if it's a bit pricey. But Christian has offered to pay."

I glanced at Christian and he shrugged his shoulders, as if to say 'what else did you expect?'

"You know me, Annie, I love a free meal!"

"You love anything that's free," I snorted. I shuffled across the kitchen floor and came to Ray's side.

He pulled me into his chest, cocooning me in his big arms. His lips pressed a kiss to my forehead.

"You've got a good one in him," he whispered to me. "He certainly gets my seal of approval."

I could tell Christian had heard what Ray said, his cheeks starting to turn bright pink.

"Dad, anyone who offers to buy you dinner will get your seal of approval," I chuckled. "The way to your heart is through your stomach. I learned that a long time ago!"

"Food and my baby girl," he hummed. "The most important things in my life."

* * *

Several hours later, Christian and I said our goodbyes to Ray and stepped out into the cool night. The air was still, barely a whisper of a breeze cutting through the sapphire sky.

"Did you have fun?" Christian asked as we reached the sidewalk, his hand resting in the small of my back.

"I did," I nodded, grinning. "Thank you for bringing me here."

"I love seeing you with Ray," he admitted. "The way you are with him, it's so endearing. It's just a shame he doesn't live closer to us."

"Ray will never leave Portland," I shook my head.

"Ah, who knows what the future holds?" he smirked down at me. He changed the subject before I could press him. "I'll call the driver to come pick us up."

"Actually –" I held my hand up as he reached into his pocket for his phone. "Do you mind if we go for a walk first? Just around the block?"

"A walk?" he frowned. I nodded my head. "Why?"

"There's something I want to see before we head home," I said. "Is that okay with you?"

His eyes roamed my face for a moment, his lips pursing slightly. After a beat, he removed his hand from his pocket and offered his palm to me. I smiled as I placed my hand in his, turning on the spot and leading the way down the street.

I wasn't entirely sure why I wanted to see the red-bricked house a few streets away from my childhood home, but there was something inside me that said I should go check it out. Check that it was still standing and that it hadn't miraculously disappeared or crumbled to dust. It felt like a lifetime since I had last seen it, even longer since I had stepped inside.

Of course, I knew I wouldn't be able to go inside the house tonight. Maybe never again. I probably wasn't welcome there anymore, despite what Ray had told me about Mr Rodriguez.

We crossed the street, coming to a stop directly opposite the house. I gripped Christian's hand, gently pulling him closer into my side to keep the both of us in darkness. Safely out of the way and out of sight.

"Is this where José grew up?" Christian asked, understanding what we were looking at.

"He lived here until he was seven," I confirmed. "Until his family moved away. We lost touch after that… His father never sold the house, though. He rented it out. They moved back here about five years ago."

"Were you and José close when you were kids?"

"Practically joined at the hip," I nodded. I glanced up the street, a soft smile tweaking my lips. "We used to race up and down this street on our bikes… If I wasn't here, José was at Ray's with me. We used to spend almost every minute together."

"He was your best friend, wasn't he?"

I nodded again, gulping down the small lump gathering in the base of my throat.

The Rodriguez house had felt like a second home to me. His father used to give me a high-five every time I crossed the threshold. His mother used to pile my plate with food, determined to fill my stomach until it was fit to burst.

I had been truly heartbroken when his family moved away, his father taking a job in North Carolina. I knew we would eventually lose contact with each other. The promises we made to call each other all the time faded into the back of our juvenile minds.

"When did things become weird between you and José?" Christian asked.

"He started acting strange before I graduated," I sighed. "He was a year behind us and I don't think he liked the idea of us moving away, leaving him behind for another year… I don't think he even finished college. Not with everything that's happened."

"Was it only after you graduated that he tried to kiss you? He never tried anything before then?"

"Never," I shook my head. "That night, at mine and Kate's housewarming party, was the first time he had ever acted on his feelings… I wasn't stupid, I knew he liked me more than a friend, but I chose to ignore it. Maybe that messed with his head? Things got really awkward after he kissed me."

"He spiralled out of control," Christian reminded me, already knowing how José had found comfort in the bottom of a vodka bottle. "But I doubt you're the reason why. It was probably loneliness that ruined him. It can destroy a person. I should know."

I lifted my eyes to him, finding him staring at the house. His profile was surprisingly relaxed and not showing any signs of sadness, despite the implication behind his comment. I didn't like to think of Christian feeling alone, trapped in his ivory tower because he didn't – _couldn't_ – trust anyone.

"José probably didn't know who to turn to for help," he added. "He kissed you and you pushed him away. That must have knocked his confidence, but it still doesn't make it your fault."

I gave his hand a tight squeeze, returning my attention to the house. The front window was lit up, revealing the Rodriguez's small dining room. I was about to turn away when I saw a shadow move across the wall.

What I then saw stung the back of my eyes.

Despite the drastic change in his appearance, I recognised him instantly. His dark hair was longer and scruffier than it used to be, hanging around his shoulders. His face was gaunt and pale, like the rest of him. My god, he was at least half the size he was, his t-shirt flapping around his torso as he slowly shuffled across the room.

José stumbled and reached out to grab the table, his head sagging forward.

"He's home," I gulped. "I didn't think he was… Ray said they stopped his home visits…"

I felt Christian shrug his shoulders, as confused as I was.

"Maybe he left the centre on his own accord," he suggested.

"Is he allowed to do that?"

"They can't hold him prisoner."

"But he hurt himself," I shook my head. "His doctors, they're supposed to be keeping an eye on him. In case he does anything –"

"Ana," Christian whispered my name, dragging my focus up to him. "He hasn't been sectioned. He's a voluntary patient. If he wants to leave, they can't stop him. Not unless his therapist believes he's at risk of causing considerable harm to himself or others."

"Do you think he's given up rehab? Do you think he's left altogether?"

He quickly shook his head at me. "No. He hasn't quit. He's probably come home for some respite," he said. "You know how intense therapy is and you only have an hour-long session each time. Imagine how exhausting it must be to do that all day, every day."

"True," I hummed, agreeing with him.

I dragged my eyes back across the street. José was still clinging onto the table, but his lips were moving. A few seconds passed before his father came to his side, Mr Rodriguez looking as worn out as his son. He slipped his arm around José's side, helping to bring him back to his full height.

José lifted his head and twisted himself into Mr Rodriguez's body, slouching down into his dad's arms. José dropped his head onto his father's shoulder and for a brief moment, I think I saw a weak smile on his lips.

"I think we can leave now," I muttered.

"Are you sure?"

I peeled my watery eyes from José and his father, giving them the privacy they need and deserve.

I glanced up at Christian and nodded. "I'm sure," I confirmed. "Let's go."

We began walking back towards Ray's house, each step reverberating through the quiet streets. Christian pulled out his phone and texted our driver. I knew that by the time we reached the top of the road, the Audi would be ready and waiting for us.

"How do you feel?" Christian asked.

"Fine," I whispered. I caught him staring at me from the corner of my eye. "I mean it. I feel okay… I would love to knock on his door and talk to him, but I know that's not what he needs."

"You do?"

"He needs time to heal," I said. "And he can't do that if I'm around, reminding him of what's happened… I'm happy as long as he's home and surrounded by people who care about him. That's enough for me."

"It looks like he's in the right place," Christian agreed.

"He's safe," I nodded. "Like you said, who knows what the future holds. Maybe one day we'll be friends again."

"And if that doesn't happen? Will you be okay with that?"

"I'll have to be," I shrugged. "We both went through something horrific, and we both need to find a way to move on from that. His way of moving on might be different to mine and I'll need to accept that, even if it doesn't involve me."

I could feel that he was worrying about me, tension building in his fingers as they rubbed against mine.

I stopped in the middle of the sidewalk and turned to face him.

"Christian," I sighed his name. "Really, I'm okay… It's not about what I want, is it? It's about what he needs."

"And what about your needs?"

I smiled and shuffled into his front.

"I've got you," I muttered as I buried my head in his chest. "I've got everything I need right here."

Christian held me for a minute, just until the Audi reappeared at the base of Ray's driveway. He took me by the hand again and escorted me to the car, taking his time to help me into the back.

While he walked around the car and settled into the seat beside me, I took a moment to glance up at Ray's house.

I didn't feel that familiar pang of sadness that I usually experience whenever I have to leave. I wasn't sad to leave Ray because I knew I would see him again soon. Perhaps sooner than I realise…

But, most of all, I was looking forward to getting back to Seattle and my new home. The place where my future now lies.

Maybe I was closer to feeling one hundred percent after all…


	23. Chapter Twenty Two

**A/N: Hello Everyone.**

 **Thank you for the wonderful messages and advice I received over my wisdom tooth removal. It really helped and I am feeling much better now! All of the stitches are out and I'm back on solid foods, which makes for a very happy Chelsea!**

 **I hope you enjoy this chapter. We're back in Christian's POV for this one.**

 **Much Love,**

 **Chelsea x**

* * *

 **SuzB** – Thank you! Rhian has worked wonders with Ana and long may it continue. I'm feeling much better, thank you! I hope you enjoy this chapter. Much Love x

 **Susan** – Thank you! I'm glad you liked it. I hope you enjoy this chapter too. Much Love x

 **DoloresDeeHowe** – Thank you! Ana is definitely on the mend. I think we'll all start seeing a massive shift in her mood over the coming chapters! Much Love x

 **Cypher7** – Thank you so much for the suggestion! That will definitely be working its way into a chapter and, of course, I will cite you for your amazing contribution! I hope you enjoy this chapter! Much Love x

 **Reds77** – Thank you! Carla is a piece of work and we will get to meet her eventually. I hope you enjoy this chapter! Much Love x

* * *

 **CHRISTIAN**

Ten days had passed since Christian's birthday and he already knew this was shaping up to be the best year of his life.

He also knew Ana was the sole reason for his happiness.

His eyes drifted to the picture frame she had given him as a gift, it taking pride of place next to his computer. His lips curled into a smile as he saw her grinning back at him.

A loud ping distracted him, the sound of an incoming email blasting from his computer. With a sigh, Christian threw a glance to his screen.

He quickly sat upright, his spine becoming rigid, as he saw the message was from Emily Reed.

* * *

 **To: Christian Grey**

 **From: E REED**

 **Date: 28 June 2012 10:43**

 **Subject: Thank you**

Hello Christian,

I wanted to say thank you again for the offer you made me. I hope you didn't mind that it took me a while to come to a decision? It was a lot to take in.

I cannot thank you enough for your help. I was able to sleep last night without worrying about losing our home. I can't remember the last good night's sleep I had. I feel like I can actually breathe again and that's thanks to you.

Anabelle loves the activity gym you gave her, so thank you very much on her behalf. I have recently bought her some new clothes from one of the stores you suggested – if you have changed your mind about paying for our expenses, I will completely understand!

The kindness you have shown us will never be forgotten.

I wish Alex was here to meet you. I think you could have really helped him get back on the straight and narrow.

Thank you again.

Best wishes,

Emily

* * *

Christian sank back in his seat and expelled a long plume of air from deep within his chest.

It was as if a weight had been lifted, his shoulders suddenly feeling less tense, his stomach starting to unfurl.

Of course, he already knew Emily had bought some clothes for her daughter. He had seen the receipts on his bank statement and he was pleased to see the money leaving his account. He wanted others to benefit from his wealth and so he was relieved Emily had finally accepted his help.

But he had been even more relieved when she messaged him a few days ago, to accept his offer to pay off her debts.

Emily had thought long and hard about the offer, finally deciding it was a good idea to accept help when it was being offered. Christian told her there was no shame in it, that all she needed to think about was keeping her and her daughter safe. That included keeping the roof over their heads. By paying off her debts, he was able to give her some breathing space until she finds a new house in Toronto – closer to her family. Get the mortgage company off her back. As soon as she agreed, Christian called the list of creditors she owed money to and promptly paid off the outstanding balances. He hadn't thought twice about handing over the $65,000. The figure was of no significance to him. It didn't matter if it was sixty-five thousand or sixty-five million, he would happily sign it over without batting an eyelid.

To Christian, all that mattered was that he was doing something good. Something that further distanced him from the likes of Elena Lincoln.

For too many years Christian thought he was exactly like her. He behaved like her, he did what she told him to do, she was the voice in his ear coaxing him on every aspect of his life. He was her puppet, but at the time it didn't feel like that. He thought she cared about him, considered her a friend and an ally.

It used to worry him, though. Chilled him to the bone thinking he was her mirror image. He knew Elena had an evil streak in her. He just didn't know how far she would go with it. He was terrified of turning into her. He dreaded waking up one day and realising his life was empty of love, hope and happiness.

He needn't have worried. Ana provided him with all of those things. She was the epitome of those very ideals.

But the fundamental difference between him and Elena?

Elena cared about no one but herself. She didn't care about the people she hurt – the people she abused. As long as she came out on top, everything was perfect in her world.

Christian was the exact opposite of her and he understood that now. He hated the fact he had hurt people in the past, especially those closest to him. The shit he put his family through, the nights they must have worried about whether or not he would come home in one piece…

No.

He cared.

Maybe he cared too much, if that was even possible.

He wanted to right his wrongs. He wanted to be a better version of himself. For his family. For Ana. For the children they would have in the future.

But, most of all, he wanted to rid the world of the final dregs of Elena's wickedness. She couldn't be brought to justice, but Christian could make sure those who suffered at her hand were given the chance to better their lives and move on.

His jaw twitched and he quickly shook his head, pushing Elena to the back of his mind. She didn't deserve to take up any space in his brain. Christian told himself that as soon as this was over, he wouldn't give her a second thought ever again. He would exorcise himself of her, once and for all.

 _Deep breaths… Think of the bigger picture…_

He managed a smile as he thought of the hope he had been able to give Emily. Shifting his chair closer to the desk, he began to map out his reply. He wanted to confirm that he wouldn't be retracting any of his offers. He would continue to help them until Anabelle was forty, if that's what they needed. There was no expiration on his help or support.

Hitting send, Christian reclined in his chair and let out a sigh. He was granted just a few moments of reflection before there was a knock on his door.

"Come in –"

The door swung open and Kate slipped in through the gap, Taylor following close behind her.

"Do you have a minute?" she asked, scanning the room to make sure he was alone.

She was clutching another manila file. Christian immediately knew what this was about.

"I've found him," she confirmed with a nod.

"Jake?" Christian asked, sitting forward, his fingers curling around the arms of his chair.

Kate nodded again. Her blonde ponytail swung from side to side as she crossed the length of his office, heading straight for his desk. She set down the file and opened it up in front of him. She had spent the best part of an hour compiling it, having just added the final pieces to the puzzle.

Surprisingly, it had been far easier tracking down the second of Elena's victims. Jake hadn't fallen completely off radar, unlike Alexander Bradford.

"Jake Costello," Kate declared, her eyes fixed on the file. "Eighteen years old. He's currently living in New York City and enrolled at The Juilliard School."

Christian's brows shot up his forehead.

"I know," she snorted. "He's a dancer. Really into ballet, apparently."

"I wasn't expecting that," he blew out his cheeks. "You have concrete proof he's alive?"

She reached forward and pulled out a single piece of paper from within the file. She had expected Christian to be concerned. The revelation about Alexander's suicide had hit him hard, so she had taken the initiative to find Jake's social media pages. His Instagram had more than 500 photographs on it. She had selected a few pictures to show Christian, to prove the boy was both alive and active.

"He updated his Instagram two hours ago," she said. She pointed to a picture of his name branded on a Starbucks cup.

 _Why do people always do that? Who gives a fuck what you ordered or whether your name was spelt right?_

It frustrated Christian, seeing people photographing their meals instead of actually consuming them.

He scanned the rest of the images and nodded to himself. It was definitely Jake. Christian was sure of it as soon as he saw a selfie of the teenager. It was like looking at a younger version of himself. Elena was right – Jake was almost identical to Christian.

"Welch was able to track down contact details for him," Kate added. She glanced between the two men, despite having briefed Taylor on the short walk to Christian's office. "We've got everything we need to reach out to him."

Christian inhaled a deep breath and picked up the file. He skimmed through the papers it in, finding photographs of Jake with his family and friends, his school transcripts outlining his academic success, his life seemingly perfect. In each picture Jake was grinning – properly grinning, the smile reaching his eyes in every shot. He didn't look like someone who had been abused at the age of fourteen. He didn't look traumatised, didn't wear the scars of abuse on his face.

But, then, most survivors don't.

Survivors often find ways to hide the abuse, bury it deep inside themselves to stop onlookers from knowing the darkest part of their souls.

It wasn't always about hiding a 'dirty little secret', it was self-preservation. Often the only way some people can get out of bed in the morning.

Christian should know. He had spent most of his life hiding the torture he had endured, both from his birth mother, the pimp and Elena. He kept his guard up and never allowed anyone to see beneath his iron mask.

But Ana had blown his world apart. She had seen behind his bravado, had seen the worst parts of him, and she still loved him. She showed him it's okay to be broken. Because everyone is a little broken inside. It's just a case of finding the person who will help glue you back together again.

 _Ana is my glue_ , he thought to himself. _She's made me whole again_.

"What's the next move?" Taylor asked, approaching the side of the desk. He crossed his arms, his jacket sleeves straining over his biceps. "Do we contact him right away, or do we wait until we know more about him?"

Christian dragged his eyes to Taylor's and slowly shrugged his shoulders.

"We need to be careful," he told his confidant. "He's a kid."

"He's eighteen," Kate corrected him.

"He's barely out of diapers," Christian huffed. "Eighteen is still a kid. Nobody has their shit together at that age… Besides, all of this is still pretty recent for him."

Jake's abuse had started when he was fourteen, lasting approximately seven months in total. Four years had passed since the immediate nightmare had ended for the boy. It sounded a long time, but it wasn't. Not really.

Christian's physical relationship with Elena ended eight years ago, but her manipulation had persisted until the start of the year. She hadn't touched him for so long, yet she had been inside him constantly. She had always been there, under his skin, sucking away at his soul.

He was only just coming to terms with the full extent of the control she had had over him. He had only just started calling it what it was. _Abuse_. Since he had begun to realise this, Christian had struggled with the way it made him feel about himself. He felt dirty, ashamed for having allowed her to do those things to him…

At fifteen he thought it was fun. He thought he was cool and enjoyed the fact somebody wanted him. But looking back? Why didn't he see how wrong it was?

Did Jake feel the same way when it started for him? Did she reassure him it was normal, that she was helping him to understand his body? That she was just showing him a way to control his thoughts and raging hormones?

Flynn was working overtime to help Christian process his abuse. Their sessions recently had taken on a darker tone, but they were making good progress. They could both see the light at the end of the tunnel.

Kate shifted on her heels and tilted her head to the side.

"Can I make a suggestion?" she asked, her gaze darting between Taylor and Christian. "What if I reach out to Jake?"

Christian frowned at her, his brows pushing down around his eyes.

"Hear me out –" she said, holding up her palms. "I'm way more approachable than the both of you put together. There's a good chance he'll run for the hills if either of you contact him. It'd be like the police turning up at your door at 3am. You'd know shit is about to hit the fan. Right?"

Taylor conceded her on that point, gently bobbing his head in agreement. He knew he wasn't the best person for the nicey-nicey approach.

"I know I can act like a bull in a china shop sometimes, but I can be subtle. A lot subtler than you," Kate added, directing her green stare to Christian. "If you wade in with your size elevens, you'll lose him in an instant."

"I take a fourteen and a half," Christian corrected her. "But I get what you're saying. So how do you propose you reach out to him?"

"Honesty is the best policy," she shrugged her shoulders. "I'll tell him I've come across information that links him to Elena and I would like to talk to him about it. I'll explain that I know what she did to other boys and I want to make sure he's okay."

"What if he denies ever knowing her?"

"Then we all need to take a step back. If he doesn't want to talk, we can't force him. But I can at least lay down some of the groundwork for you," Kate pleaded. "If he agrees to talk, I'll bring you into the conversation and explain what you've been doing."

"I really don't know about this," Christian sighed.

He glanced over to Taylor, looking to him for advice.

"She has a point," he hummed. "We need to tread carefully but we can't trap him."

"I know that but –"

"You need to gain his trust," Taylor continued. He only ever interrupted his boss when he had a point to make. Christian knew to let him speak. "He needs to know he can trust all of us, and that won't happen if we lie about why you want to meet him. I think it's probably a good idea to be open from the start. Give him the opportunity to say yes or no."

"Right…"

"Give him some control over the situation," Taylor pressed on, fixing his glare to Christian. "Give him back the control that woman stole from him."

Christian sucked in a sharp breath, his chest rising up towards the ceiling.

As much as he wanted to be in the driving seat on this, he knew they were both right. If he took the lead, he would probably move too quickly, too boldly, and scare the kid off.

"Okay," he gulped. He looked over to Kate. "Are you absolutely sure you can handle this?"

"Yes," she replied with a confident nod. "Christian, I wouldn't have suggested it if I didn't think I could do this. I've done a lot of research into victims of this type of crime. I've spoken to your therapist and got advice from him about what I should and shouldn't say. I've got this. I know what I'm doing."

He had to admit it, Kate was tenacious. She was determined and fiercely loyal, too. He had figured it out for himself when she started helping him with all of this. If you were part of Kate's tribe, she would fight to the death for you. Nothing would stop her from helping those she cared about. Christian was glad Ana had someone like Kate in her life.

Damn it, he was glad _he_ had someone like Kate in his life.

There was something oddly comforting about being surrounded by strong women…

"I want you to report back to me every step of the way," he told her, his tone sharper than necessary. "I need to know what's going on."

"Of course," she agreed. "I'll send you copies of all correspondence."

"Thank you," he said, blowing out a long sigh. "I appreciate this. Even if it doesn't always come across that way."

Kate smirked at him, struggling to keep her lips pressed together.

"It's okay," she hummed. "I knew what I was getting into when I started working for you. Ana already warned me how you can get."

He rolled his eyes.

Taylor turned his head away, trying to compose himself. He could feel a laugh brewing inside his chest.

"If you need to take a step back from your other projects, that's fine," Christian told her. "Just give your work to someone else."

"I'm sure they'll love that," she snorted.

"If anyone has a problem with it, tell them to come see me," he ordered.

Kate appreciated the sentiment but she didn't want to make any enemies. When she had first started working at GEH, she had experienced a few teething problems. But things soon settled down when news broke that she was friends with the boss's girlfriend. Suddenly everyone was bringing her coffee, offering to fetch her lunch… It had unnerved her a little. The last thing Kate wanted was preferential treatment. She just wanted to be part of the team. To feel like she belonged.

"Actually, that reminds me," she announced. "It's the Grey Ball tomorrow night."

"I know. Andrea put it in my calendar."

"Everything is all set and ready," she told him. "It's shaping up to be a great party."

Christian had established the Annual Grey Ball several years ago. He had wanted to come up with a way to celebrate his staff and their hard work, knowing that after weeks of intense audits and appraisals they would need an opportunity to let their hair down and relax.

How could he expect his employees to give him their all without offering them something in return? It was a no brainer. Keep them sweet and they'll produce more nectar.

The Grey Ball was a night of fun, frivolity and, more importantly, free drinks. All and any discussions about work were left at the door, everything on hold until Monday morning.

Not that Christian had ever attended one of the balls. He avoided it like the plague.

"So, are you coming?" Kate asked.

He arched his brow and jerked his head to the side in a way that said 'are you fucking serious?'

"The whole point of the ball is so everyone can relax," he grumbled. "No one can do that if their boss is lurking around."

"I think everyone would actually love to see you there," she said. His brows pinched together, a hard line weaving through his expression. "I'm being serious! You seem to think everyone here is scared of you and they aren't. Wary, yes. But not scared."

He grunted a response, unconvinced.

"Everyone looks up to you," Kate protested. "I'd really like you to be there."

"Why?"

"Because I've put a lot of effort into this."

"What do you want, a gold star?"

"No," she rolled her eyes. She turned her chin to Taylor, who was still smirking to himself. "Has he always been like this?"

"He was even worse when I first started working for him," Taylor nodded.

Christian huffed at them.

"Come on, live a little!"

"No," he shook his head. "I don't do parties, balls or benefits unless -"

"Your mommy forces you to go?" Kate shot back, pursing her lips. He scowled at her. "You don't even need to stay for the whole night, just come for an hour or two."

"I –"

"I'm sure Ana would love the chance to dress up," she added, going for the jugular.

His jaw twitched. Ana was his Achilles heel and everyone knew it.

"It'd be good for her," she continued. "It'd give her a chance to let her hair down. You told me she's at her happiest when she's busy, when she has other stuff to think about. Right?"

He nodded.

Taylor crossed the room and disappeared out of the door, excusing himself as his shoulders began to bounce up and down. He needed to laugh.

He really liked Kate. He liked women who knew how to handle men like Christian.

Christian scowled at the door, cursing his confidant.

"Fine," he huffed. "I'll ask her."

"Great!"

"But if Ana says she doesn't want to go, that's it. Okay?"

Kate nodded, pleased with herself. She wanted Christian to see how much time and effort she had put into the plans. She wanted to impress him, prove that she was a valuable asset to him and GEH.

But she also wanted to spend some time with her best friend.

"How is Ana?" she asked, her voice softening. "I haven't really seen or spoken to her for a few weeks."

"She knows you're busy at the moment," Christian assured her, a slight smile appearing on his lips. "She's doing pretty well. I'm actually shocked by how much she's improved."

"You are? Wow. That's great."

"She's getting stronger every day," he hummed. He gestured momentarily to the file. "In fact, I'm starting to think she might be ready to hear about this."

"What?" Kate gasped, jerking her head back. "You think she's ready? This soon?"

"I've noticed a huge change in her," Christian nodded. "She still has moments when she's quiet, when I know she's thinking about the fire, but she hasn't flipped out in a while. She has more control over her emotions now."

He turned his head to the side and glanced out of his window, his eyes darting across the sky until they landed on SIP. If he squinted, he could make out Ana's window from here.

He knew it was risky to tell Ana this soon in her recovery, when she was only just starting to feel better, but he wanted this out in the open.

And he had seen a drastic improvement in her mental health. He wasn't exaggerating.

She was making good progress in her sessions, always listening to the mindfulness clips Rhian had sent her. Christian didn't believe in all of that pseudo-science crap, the hypno-shit other therapists had tried to force on him in the past. But even he had to admit they were helping Ana. It was working for her, which pleased him immensely. He didn't care what she needed to do to regain her confidence, just so long as it worked.

All he wanted was for Ana to feel normal again. To able to live her life without constantly looking over her shoulder, waiting for the next panic attack to hit her. He could see glimpses of the old Ana coming back – the strong, stubborn, resilient woman he had fallen in love with.

"She's in a good place right now," he told Kate. "I don't want to drag this out any longer than necessary. I hate keeping this from her."

"But you're doing it to protect her," she reminded him. "If you tell her too soon, you risk sending her right back to square one."

"I know that," he nodded. "And it's a risk I have to take at some point, regardless of whether I tell her tomorrow or next year. There's always a chance she could go into a tailspin, but I don't feel comfortable hiding this from her. It feels like I'm lying."

"You're not lying to her," Kate shook her head. "Lying would be if she asked you and you denied it."

"But withholding information is okay?" he frowned. "She has shared a lot of personal stuff with me recently, it doesn't feel fair to keep this from her anymore."

Kate studied his expression and slowly began to understand what he was referring to.

Carla.

A part of Kate was surprised Ana had told Christian about Carla. Ana hated talking about her mother, especially with people who also had experienced difficult childhoods. Ana had witnessed the appalling way Don Kavanagh had treated Kate, and she had seen how messed up Christian was because of the many abusers he had come across in his life.

How could she moan to them about Carla when, by comparison, she was still lucky to have had a mother who cared?

Because despite Carla's recent misgivings, she did care about Ana at one point. She had kept her safe, made sure she had food in her stomach and didn't want for anything. Ana almost felt like she didn't have a good enough reason to be angry with her mother, to feel upset by what she had done.

But, then, Ana always did compare herself to others. In appearance, intelligence, success… She couldn't help but feel like she was in competition with everyone around her. And she always came away feeling weaker, poorer, less worthy.

"You know Ana better than anyone else," Kate spoke, a small sigh escaping her. "You're probably the best person to judge if she's ready to hear about this."

"You're still her best friend," Christian reminded her.

"But you see more of her than I do now," she shrugged. "Just be careful, yeah? I don't want her to get hurt again."

"Neither do I. That's the last thing I want."

"How soon do you think you'll tell her?"

"I haven't worked that out yet," he shook his head. "I need to pick my moment. Make sure she's in a good mood when I tell her."

Christian hoped Ana would be able to handle the truth about Elena's notebook and what he had been doing to find the other victims.

He didn't want her to crumble again, which was difficult to navigate when he couldn't even say Elena's name without Ana flinching.

But, more importantly, he prayed she would understand why he hadn't been able to tell her sooner.

Every decision he had made was with her safety in mind – both physical and mental.

If he had just one wish, it would be to remove all of the hurt and pain from her life. He would gladly wear all of her scars if it meant she never had to suffer again.

 _Please don't hate me for keeping this from you_ , he begged as his eyes returned to the window and SIP. _Please don't leave me, baby_. _I can't live without you…_


	24. Chapter Twenty Three

**A/N: Hello Lovelies!**

 **Thank you for the wonderful feedback I received on the last chapter. As always, I'm glad you enjoyed it!**

 **Wishing all of those who celebrate a very happy Easter! I lucked out and Easter coincides with my birthday this year and so, as a treat, this is a longer chapter for you to sink your teeth in to. I hope you like it! :)**

 **Much Love,**

 **Chelsea x**

* * *

 **Susan** – Thank you! I'm glad you liked it. I hope you enjoy this one too! Much Love x

 **SuzB** – Thank you! I think Christian definitely wants to tell her, sooner rather than later, but finding the right time might be tricky. Fingers crossed it goes smoothly, whenever he does tell her about the notebook! I hope you like the Grey Ball! Much Love x

 **DoloresDeeHowe** – Thank you! I think Ana might be stronger than any of us realise, even herself. I have a feeling we're going to see a change in her very, very soon… I hope you like this chapter! Much Love x

 **Reds77** – Thank you! Taylor speaks a lot of sense! I hope you enjoy the Grey Ball. It should prove to be an eventful night… Much Love x

 **iamdbomangmail** – Thank you! I love their relationship too. They are the definition of relationship goals! Much Love x

* * *

The Annual Grey Ball was already in full swing by the time we arrived, shortly after eight o'clock on Friday evening.

The entire second floor of Grey House had been turned into party central, no longer looking like its usual monochromatic offices and clinical conference rooms. All of my senses were heightened. Bright colours, incredible smells and thumping music enveloped me the moment we exited the elevator. Flowers and flashing lights everywhere, sharp tuxedos and beautiful dresses moving from room to room.

It had come as a complete surprise when Christian asked me if I wanted to attend the ball with him, blurting out the question over dinner yesterday. Kate had previously told me he never attended the parties, preferring to maintain a professional distance from his employees. I understood his reasons but why the sudden change of heart?

"I guess we can turn it into a date night," he had replied when I questioned him, shrugging his shoulders at me. "It'll be good for us to get out and have fun. Drink some champagne, dance, that sort of thing… Plus, it'll give me a chance to show you off to people."

And I knew just how much he loved to do that!

Christian didn't treat me like a trophy wife and I knew he never would, but he loved to introduce me to people. He takes great pride in saying the word 'girlfriend' at every available opportunity.

I had hesitated for a moment, thinking over my options. I had never been a party person, was always happier staying at home and with a cup of tea and a book, but something told me the Grey Ball would be fun. That I should let loose and enjoy myself for a change.

What harm could it do? What's the worst that can happen?

Mia dutifully came to Escala earlier to help me get ready. She was brimming with excitement at the chance of styling me for the ball. She brought with her more dress bags than I cared to count, but it only took a few minutes to choose the perfect outfit. As soon as I pulled it over my hips, I knew it was the right dress for me.

Oyster coloured silk, a solid piece of shimmery fabric that floated down to the floor, cascading around my feet like a pool of milky water. The bodice was tightly fitted, a low V cutting down to my sternum with ultra-thin straps resting on my shoulders. I had worried at first, feeling uncomfortable with so much skin on show. Mother Nature didn't grace me with an ample bosom, but I still worried about putting that part of myself on display. Mia tried to assure me it was fine, but it was Christian's approval that sealed the deal and gave me the confidence to stick with my original choice. He told me the dress was both tasteful and stunning, and that I would be stupid not to wear it tonight.

I gave Mia free rein over my hair and makeup, and she opted to keep the latter simple and understated. Just a splash of colour on my cheeks and lips, giving me a slight rosy glow, and a thin coat of mascara on my lashes. She had pinned my hair back into a bun, leaving a couple of loose waves to hang freely around my face.

I felt like a million dollars. I couldn't remember a time when I had felt so pretty…

"You look incredible," Christian hummed, his lips tickling my ear as he leaned over. I shot him a glance from the corner of my eye, catching him staring down my cleavage. "I really love that dress on you."

"Thank you."

"It'll look even better on our bedroom floor," he smirked.

I pushed my elbow into his side, making him chuckle.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Always," he nodded.

We moved to the edge of the dance floor, stepping away from those already swaying to the Lady Gaga track thumping out of the sound system.

"Why do you dislike parties and social events so much?" I asked. I met his eye and tilted my head to the side. "It's not just birthday parties, it's any party in general, isn't it?"

He pursed his lips.

"I'm sensing the reason isn't just because you don't like being the centre of attention?"

He let out a sigh and shook his head.

"I used to avoid any sort of gathering because I had no one to go to them with," he replied in a quiet voice, almost sounding as if he was ashamed to reveal this to me. "I didn't want to be the loser on his own."

"Oh, Christian –"

"I know I'm not alone anymore, but it's hard to get my head around all of this. I've spent so long avoiding it." He shrugged his shoulders. "This is out of my comfort zone."

He doesn't like it when his safety net is out of reach. He likes it when everything is on his terms, when he can set the rules and govern over every minute detail.

"So you've never attended any party before?"

"I've been to parties," he said. "But not by choice. I've only gone to functions if Grace has asked me to attend. I know better than to piss her off."

"And you always went on your own?"

He nodded.

"And that made you feel even more uncomfortable?"

"It's not nice when you're alone, standing in the corner of the room, watching other couples having fun," he shrugged again.

"You never asked one of your –"

"No," he interrupted, knowing where my question was heading. He reached out and curled his fingers around my elbow and gently pulled me closer to him. "I never asked a sub to accompany me to an event. The thought never even crossed my mind."

"Really?"

"Really," he nodded.

"You never went to dinner with them?"

"No."

"Never even met for a coffee or something?"

"I was never seen in public with them," he replied. "It was strictly business. There was no emotion involved."

While I tried not to think too often about Christian and his submissives, I couldn't help but wonder how it worked between them.

Did they ever text each other or exchange small talk?

Or was everything left for the confines of the playroom?

As soon as they stepped out of the room, was that it? He went one way and they went another?

"You know it was different with them," he said, bringing me out of my thoughts. I gazed up into his eyes and saw them swollen with concern. "It was nothing like what we have."

"Was it always so…" I trailed off, trying to find the right word. "Regimented?"

"Yes," he nodded, no hesitation in his answer. "I didn't have any feelings for them. It was a business transaction and nothing more. We simply gave each other what we craved. For me, that was control."

"Not sex?"

"Sex was just an add on." He brought his hand to my face and cupped my jaw, his thumb rolling over the corner of my mouth. "I didn't even enjoy sex until I met you."

"You're kidding?"

He shook his head.

"It satisfied my urges, yes, but I never truly enjoyed it. Until I met you, I didn't realise sex could be more than just a physical thing. I didn't know that you could feel something in here –" He set his other hand on his chest. "Ana, I didn't want to spend time with the subs outside of the playroom because I didn't care about them. I know that might sound harsh but it's the truth. I didn't want to know anything about their personal lives. It didn't matter to me."

"Is that how it would have been between us?" I wondered. "If I had become one of them?"

"No," he said with a shy smile. "Because we were always going to have more. I knew you were The One when I first met you, I just wasn't able to admit it to myself at the time. I didn't understand what I was feeling."

I smiled at him and stepped into his chest, pushing my arms around his back and knotting my fingers together in the base of his spine.

"Why are you thinking about the subs all of a sudden?" he asked, his lips brushing against my temple.

"Curiosity," I shrugged. "It just popped into my head."

"Well, I'm glad you asked me about it," he hummed. "I'd much rather you ask me something than stew over it and come up with a million different scenarios in your head."

"There are no limits between us, are there?" I checked. "No question I can't ask without you answering it?"

"My life is an open book to you."

I leaned into him and arched my head back. A smirk spread itself across my lips.

"I have one more question."

"Go on?"

"Is there a dark corner we can sneak off to?" I muttered. His brow twitched with intrigue. I lowered my hands to his behind and cupped him through his pants. "Somewhere we can -"

He grabbed my hands and yanked me away from the dance floor, striding powerfully across the room with me in tow. I struggled to keep up with him, a giggle bubbling in my throat, my skin prickling in anticipation.

It's not just my dress that would look good on our bedroom floor, his tux would too…

* * *

The first hour after our arrival was filled with meeting practically everyone who worked at GEH. As soon as we prised our hands off each other, that is.

It was nerve-wracking at first, having so many people coming over to introduce themselves to me. Hundreds of names I wouldn't remember, faces I probably wouldn't recognise beyond tonight. But the most surprising thing? Everybody was polite and friendly, each person saying how pleased they were to have finally met me, after hearing Christian talking about me for so long.

Apparently, Christian liked to talk about me to a lot of people. Pretty much anybody who was willing to listen.

We mingled for a while and then gradually made our way to one of the circular tables at the back of the room, neatly tucked away for some privacy. Christian helped me into my chair and then slowly lowered onto his own.

A deep groan escaped him.

"You're not tired already?" I teased.

He shook his head and grimaced, his brows pinching in the middle of his forehead.

"Eleven o'clock," he muttered. "A walking nightmare is heading straight for us."

Confused, I scanned the room until I discovered the reason for his sudden bout of frustration.

Then it was my turn to groan.

Gia Matteo was sashaying through the centre of the dance floor, giving toothy grins to anyone who glanced her way. She was lapping up whatever attention she could garner.

She was wearing a gold dress, though I'm not sure that little fabric actually constitutes a dress. I shouldn't have worried about my cleavage being on show – I could practically see Gia's surgery scars from all the way over here.

As well as her lack of underwear.

 _Ugh_.

"What is she doing here?" I sighed, snapping my head to Christian.

"Not a fucking clue," he grunted. His eyes narrowed for a moment, before his brows shot back up his forehead. He pointed in Gia's direction. "But I think he's our answer –"

I followed his finger and felt my heart sink down into my stomach. Seeing past Gia's flamboyant display, I watched as Elliot trailed behind her, his head tilted to the floor.

Poor Kate…

"I invited Elliot," Christian explained. "He's my business partner, so I thought it would be nice for him to come along tonight."

"You're in business with him?"

"Elliot Tire and Service," he nodded. "I own sixty percent. Elliot couldn't afford the garage and yard on his own, so I offered to cover the rest. I don't take any profit from the business, though. It's all his."

I should have guessed. No wonder he offered to take Wanda there when she broke down, before we started dating…

"I also invited him because I thought it would give him a chance to talk to Kate," he added. "Finally tell her how he feels."

"He still likes her?"

"Big time," he nodded. "I don't understand why he would start fucking around with Gia again. How stupid can he be? Kate is perfect for him. Everyone knows it."

"Everyone except Elliot, apparently…"

I let out a hard sigh as Gia made a beeline for our table, constantly swishing the glittery fabric of her dress as she moved. She turned her head to the side, looking for Elliot. She beckoned him forward and forced her hand through the crook of his elbow. She hooked onto him, clinging to him like her life depended on it.

 _Or maybe it was because she thought he would run away at the first opportunity…_

Elliot lifted his eyes from the floor and sought out his brother. He shook his head at Christian, a slight frown in his expression. He looked uncomfortable.

"Why don't you get us both a drink?" Elliot asked Gia, glancing down at her. "I need a word with my bro. In private."

"Of course," Gia eagerly nodded. She pressed up onto her toes and pecked a kiss to his cheek. Elliot closed his eyes as she made contact. "I'll be back in a minute."

She swished again and spun around, ready to hunt down one of the servers circling the room.

"Sit."

Christian's voice was cold and sharp.

Elliot jumped into action. He pulled out the chair opposite and dropped down onto it.

"Explain," Christian ordered. "Quickly."

"I didn't even know she was going to be here," Elliot swore, holding up his hands in surrender. "I arrived out front and there she was. I can't shake her off."

"How did she know about the ball in the first place?" Christian asked, narrowing his eyes.

"The fuck do I know!" Elliot shook his head. "She knows a lot of people. Maybe she knows someone who works here?"

Christian tilted his head back and huffed.

It was a reasonable assumption to make. Gia certainly struck me as a popular woman. Maybe for the wrong reasons, sure, but popular all the same.

"She used you to get in," Christian fathomed. "She was probably waiting for someone to sneak in with and there you were, her long-time puppet, ready to use. You know, tonight was meant to be fun…"

"You think I want her here?" Elliot sighed. "I don't want her hovering around me like a bad smell."

"Why don't you tell her to leave you alone then?" I intervened. Elliot cast his eyes to me. "If you're not interested, why haven't you told her?"

"I have," he said. "Several times. She won't take no for an answer."

"Stop pussyfooting around her," Christian snapped. "Elliot, just tell her to fuck off."

"It's complicated. We've got history."

"Yeah, well, your history with Gia is about to ruin your future with Kate."

Elliot rubbed his hands over his eyes.

"I thought you had feelings for Kate? I thought you wanted to get back together with her?"

"I do!" Elliot blurted. "Bro, you know Kate is –"

"I'm what?"

I snapped my head up and glanced over my shoulder. Kate was at my side, her hand resting on the back of my chair.

 _Perfect timing…_

Her gaze darted between the three of us and I could see her trying to assess the mood. She let out a nervous laugh.

"I hope you were about to say I'm the best party planner in Seattle," she chuckled, catching Elliot's eye.

"Yeah, something like that…"

"Are you all having fun?" she asked. There was a low rumble of agreement. She lifted her hand to my shoulder, focusing on me now. "You having a good time?"

"I am," I nodded. "You should be really proud of yourself. Everything looks amazing."

And everything did. Including Kate herself.

Her blonde hair was loose, soft curls suspended around her shoulders. Her dress cut clean across her shoulders, long sleeves covering the length of her slender arms. The rich teal of the dress brought out the deep green tones in her eyes, the velvet-like material hugging her figure from bust to knees. Her bare legs looked even longer than usual, flawlessly tanned, with strappy gold heels encasing her feet.

I dragged my eyes back over to Elliot and found him staring at her, taking in every inch of her body with complete wonder and fascination in his gaze.

No one can fake that look. The interest. The attraction. It simply wasn't possible.

"You've done a great job," Christian told Kate. "Well done."

"Thanks," she blushed, tucking her hair back behind her ears. "I'm really glad all of you could make it. I was hoping we could –"

"There you go, babe!" Gia announced, her loud voice swallowing Kate's as she sprang back to the table. She placed a flute of champagne in front of Elliot, leaning over his shoulder. She pressed herself into him, pushing him forward slightly. "We can't have you going thirsty now, can we?"

I hated Gia from the first moment we met. But now, more than ever, I was fighting the urge to leap across the table and smash her head into the floor.

I couldn't bring myself to look up at Kate, knowing I would find disappointment weaving itself into her expression.

"Kate, I…" Elliot could barely manage a whisper, his voice dulling as he struggled to find the right words to say.

I felt Kate's fingers press into my shoulder, squeezing hard.

"I should probably start mingling again, make sure everyone is okay," Kate muttered. "Ana, I'll catch up with you later…"

She backed away before I could turn around. She walked off with purpose, somehow managing to keep her head up, her steps unfaltering and smooth. I envied the way she was able to keep her cool, despite the ache that was invariably eating away at her heart.

Because however much Elliot wanted her, I knew Kate wanted him more.

The table was silent for a moment.

"Would you like to dance?" Christian said to me, clearing his throat. I nodded my head and slipped my hand into his. "Let's leave these lovebirds to it."

As we rounded the table and passed Elliot, Christian leaned over and whispered something into his ear. I didn't catch what he said, but Elliot simply nodded his head in response, his shoulders sagging forward.

If he has any intention of getting back together with Kate, he needs to act fast. If there was anything I knew about my best friend, it was that she wouldn't allow herself to be a guy's second choice. A back up plan. She had to be their number one or nothing at all.

* * *

I kept a close eye on Elliot and Gia, my attention frequently shifting to wherever they were standing, checking on the situation between them. To my relief, it looked like he was trying to distance himself from her. Every time she stroked his arm or tried to drag him towards the dance floor, he pulled her hands away and stepped back. He rebuked her every time but still Gia wouldn't take the hint.

Was she dumb or desperate? I wasn't sure anymore.

Kate was avoiding Elliot, that much was obvious. Each time she circled near to him and Gia, she promptly turned on her heels and went elsewhere. Despite the fact she was sharing smiles and laughter with her colleagues, I could tell she was putting up a front.

I couldn't imagine how difficult it must be, seeing the guy you care about with another woman fawning all over him.

Why couldn't Elliot just tell Gia to piss off?

Why couldn't he and Kate admit to how they feel about each other?

"It's annoying me too," Christian whispered. We were pressed together, dancing to the dulcet tones of Luther Vandross and Beyoncé. "But they're adults. They have to work it out on their own."

"It's frustrating," I sighed. "More so because Gia's sticking her oar in and ruining everything."

"I've warned Elliot to cut her off," he explained. His hand slid down my spine and he gently pulled me closer into his chest. "He should have told her how he really feels a long time ago."

"Why is he trying to save her feelings? I don't understand why he gives a damn."

"Elliot doesn't like upsetting people. I know that's hard to believe, considering the way he behaves a lot of the time, but he doesn't like being the bad guy. He never has."

"So he'd rather jeopardise his chances with Kate, all because he doesn't want to upset Princess Gia?" I frowned. "He needs to grow a pair."

Christian snorted.

I eased my head back and studied his expression, enjoying the way his smile stretched all the way up to his eyes. His cheeks were rosy from dancing and the three glass of champagne he had drunk. There was no tension in his shoulders or arms, his hold entirely relaxed.

"You look like you're having fun," I told him.

"It's because I am," he nodded. "I thought I would hate this, but I'm glad we're here. We should have date nights more often."

"I can definitely get on board with that idea," I grinned. "Especially if there's dancing involved. I love dancing with you... even if I am like a sack of potatoes."

"Don't say that," he shook his head, a small chuckle oozing from his lips. "You're a good dancer."

"I'm not!"

"You're doing pretty well from where I'm standing…"

"That's because I'm just following your lead," I protested. "Christian, I have two left feet and you know it. Don't think I haven't caught you laughing at me when I've been bopping around the kitchen, listening to my iPod."

He rolled his lips inwards, hiding the grin threatening to split his face in two.

"You have rhythm," he finally replied, composing himself. "I'm being serious. You can dance. I've danced with Mia and trust me, she is terrible! You are far better than my little sister."

It was a small consolation, but I accepted it. I had seen Mia dance. What she lacked in skill, she more than made up for in enthusiasm.

"Who taught you to dance?" I asked.

The apples of his cheeks lifted, the pink in them starting to trickle down to the base of this throat. A kind of shyness enveloped him.

"Gran," he revealed in a whisper, the word almost catching in his throat. "She used to spend hours teaching us the basics. She was a professional dancer."

I nodded my head. Theo had already revealed this to me, proudly detailing Frances's success on the dance floor.

"She was adamant that her grandchildren would learn how to dance," he added. " _You must learn the traditional dances, my darlings, the real stuff. You must learn to waltz!_ "

I laughed at his imitation of Frances, his voice high and squeaky.

"How old were you?"

"About sixteen…" he shrugged his shoulders. "Just before she got sick."

"What do you mean, sick?"

"She had breast cancer."

"Really?" I gasped, shaking my head. "Oh my god…"

"Thankfully, the doctors caught it early," he nodded. "She's been in remission for a long time, but it was scary for a while. Gran and Grandpa came to live with us while she was undergoing treatment. Grace spent a lot of time looking after her."

"But she's okay now?" I checked.

"She is," he smiled. "I think it'd take a lot more than cancer to break Gran. She's a force to be reckoned with."

"Do you think she would teach me to dance, if I asked her?"

"She would jump at the opportunity!" Christian smirked. " _Darling, I will have you gliding around the ballroom like a delicate swan, just do exactly as I say_ …"

* * *

I don't know how many songs in total Christian and I danced to, my mind happily fixed on simply being in his arms. I was blissfully ignorant to everything around us.

But I should have known something would snap me back to reality. Happiness seems to be a fleeting emotion in my life lately.

In a lull in the music, my ears honed in on the sound of raised voices. A man shouting, aggression marking his loud voice, followed by a woman desperately trying to silence him.

Peeking over the top of Christian's shoulder, my stomach contorted as my eyes fixed on the cause of the commotion.

"Shit –"

I pulled myself out of Christian's hold and darted across the room, rushing towards Kate.

She was being cornered and I knew the scene wasn't likely to end well.

It never did.

Not when _he_ was concerned.

Taylor had spotted what was happening before me, already racing over and grabbing the red-faced man by the shoulders. He quickly dragged him into a side room, Kate stumbling in after them.

I slipped in through the gap before the door closed and immediately headed over to Kate. She was shaking, her face ashen.

"Ana –" Christian barked my name, pushing the door open with a thud. "What the hell is…"

His voice trailed off as his eyes settled on Don Kavanagh, still wriggling in Taylor's vice-like hold.

"If you don't get the fuck off me, I swear I will break your neck!" Don spat. He looked a mess. His shirt was untucked and creased, his jacket two sizes too small, his pants hanging too low on his waist. "I mean it! You fucking asshole!"

"Let him go," Christian ordered. Taylor pushed Don away, hard, almost causing him to fall over. "What the fuck are you doing here, Kavanagh?"

"I came to talk to my daughter," he slurred. He cocked his head to the side and smirked. "I'm assuming my invite got lost in the mail, huh? Surely your old business partner still gets invited to parties…"

Kate stepped around me and approached Christian. She shook her head at him. "I don't know why he's here," she pleaded. "I didn't invite him. I haven't spoken to him for months."

"I know," Christian muttered, nodding his head. He glanced at her and frowned. "Has he hurt you?"

She shook her head.

"As if I would lay a finger on her," Don chided. "Wouldn't waste my time. She's not worth the effort."

Christian's nose flared, his hackles rising.

The door cracked open again, a wave of music pulsing through to us. I glanced back and saw Elliot poking his head through the gap.

"What's going on?" he asked, looking between the five of us. His attention settled on Kate and he frantically pushed his way into the room. He went straight to her side and caressed his hand down her cheek. "Are you okay?"

Kate nodded once, but didn't say anything.

"Let me guess, this is the latest chump you're fooling around with?" Don huffed, his beady gaze taking Elliot in. "You certainly know how to pick them, Katie."

I saw Kate flinch at the moniker. She always hated it when he called her that.

"What's going on?" Elliot asked again, turning his chin towards Christian.

"I'm about to throw this motherfucker out on his ass," Christian grunted. "I'm going to ask you one more time, Kavanagh, what are you doing here?"

"I already told you, I'm here to talk to my daughter," Don shrugged. "Are you fucking deaf?"

Christian rushed forward but Taylor was quicker, somehow lighter on his feet. He stepped between Christian and Don, forming a human shield.

Taylor raised his hands but didn't make contact with Christian. He didn't dare touch him when he was this angry.

I had never seen Christian take a swing at someone, but I knew a single punch from him would be enough to floor somebody. After all, I had seen the damage he did to Elliot's nose after their argument several months ago... It was a wonder the doctors had been able to straighten it again.

Christian could probably kill a weasel like Don without even breaking a sweat.

The thought terrified me.

"How did you worm your way into my building?" Christian growled.

"You're not the only one who knows people," Don winked.

"You bribed someone?" Christian guessed, his reply making Don chuckle. I wondered briefly if it was just alcohol he was laced on or something stronger. "I didn't realise you had money to piss away like that. Last I heard, things weren't going well for you on the business front."

Don's face turned magenta with fury, his laugh now a thing of the past, the veins in his forehead pulsating.

"And whose fault is that?" he snapped. He pointed at Christian with a shaky hand. "You've ruined me, you little prick. I've lost everything."

"Good," Christian nodded. "Remind me, just how many investors pulled out of DKA when I withdrew my shares and outed you for the fucking bastard you are?"

"You lied about me –"

"Keep telling yourself that," Christian shot back. "You cheated hundreds of women out of equal pay. You harassed your employees, even assaulted a number of them. You treated people like shit. All I did was expose you to the world. I let everyone make up their own minds and, unsurprisingly, no one wants to associate with assholes like you."

"What makes you think you can talk to me like that, huh?" Don shook his head. He edged closer to Taylor, leering over his shoulder. "You think you're better than me? I know the type of man you are, Grey. Oh I know all right! The infamous Christian Grey. The biggest womanizer in the USA. A different whore in his bed every night of the week!"

Christian snorted a laugh and shook his head. He twisted on the spot and fixed me with a stare. I rolled my eyes at the absurdity of Don's comment.

"I bet you're still at it, aren't you?" Don continued. "One woman not enough? Bet you can't keep your dick in your pants!"

"That's enough," Taylor grunted, snapping his head to the side. "You have thirty seconds before I personally remove you from the building. By your cheap ass wig, if I have to."

Don seethed, reeling back a step. He scowled at Taylor before looking in my direction.

His expression altered as he glared at me, his eyes seeming to soften a little.

"You're a smart girl," he muttered, shaking his head. "How long is it going to be before you realise you're wasting your time?"

"Excuse me?" I frowned.

"You deserve so much better than some arrogant little prick like him."

"Call me a prick one more time," Christian warned. "It'll be the last thing you ever do."

Kate stumbled forward, gingerly approaching her father. I could tell she wanted to shut him up, get him out of here before he does something stupid.

He didn't even have the decency to acknowledge her standing in front of him.

"Are you going to sit back and let him disrespect you?" Don continued, refusing to lift his stare from me. "He's probably screwing my Katie behind your back! She's never been picky, always did have shit taste in men."

I felt Elliot rush up alongside me, but I stuck out my arm to stop him from reaching Don. Instead, I moved forward, standing toe-to-toe with him. He reeked of whiskey and cigarettes.

"I'm just looking out for you, honey," he drawled.

"Don't bother," I hissed. "I don't need people like you _looking out for me_. I can do that all by myself."

He opened his mouth to speak. I silenced him with a flick of my hand.

"You disgust me," I shook my head. "I always knew you were a bastard to Kate, but tonight you've proved that you really don't care about anyone but yourself. Coming here, uninvited, causing trouble? What do you think you'll gain from this?"

"A couple of black eyes," Elliot grumbled from over my shoulder.

"Did you come here to take another shot at Kate?" I continued. I wasn't prepared to let him wriggle away without saying my piece. Somebody needed to take him down a notch. "It's not much of a challenge with Patty anymore, is it? She'll just take whatever abuse you throw at her, and we all know you would never say anything to your precious Ethan. Your golden boy."

"I –"

"Does it look like I had finished talking?" I snapped, tilting my head to the side. "No. You used to pick on Kate because she wouldn't lay down and take it. You hated the fact she stood up to you, so you tried to break her. Mould her into what you wanted… But, then, you don't like it when any woman stands up to you. Am I right?"

He pressed his lips into a hard line. His shoulders hitched up towards his ears.

"The only reason you ever liked me was because I was everything you thought a woman should be," I shook my head again. "Quiet, reserved, only speak when you're spoken to. Because women are weaker than men, right? That's what you think. We're only good for staying at home, popping out kids, and being your punchbag."

"I never laid a finger on my girls," Don snarled.

"Abuse doesn't have to be physical. You have mistreated Kate since the day she was born, all because you didn't want a daughter. You didn't want to be associated with weakness, but guess what? She is ten times the person you are."

He dragged his eyes up and down my body, disgust fleeting through them.

"To think I once respected you," he tutted.

"You used me," I said. "You pitted me against Kate. I was just another way for you to upset her. Telling her she should be more like me… When you looked at me, all you saw was a shy girl who wouldn't say boo to a goose."

I stepped closer to him, lifting my chin as I pulled my shoulders back.

"But I've got news for you," I whispered. "That girl's gone and I'm so fucking glad I've learned to use the voice I was given. I should have called you out on your behaviour the first time I ever saw you snap at Kate, and I regret not saying something sooner. But I will not allow you to hurt her anymore. This ends now."

He huffed at me and shook his head.

"Do all of us a favour and fuck off," I blurted.

"Watch your tongue," he muttered, grinding his teeth together. "You don't know who you're talking to."

"I do," I nodded. "But I'd be very careful about threatening me in front of these guys. They're just waiting for the perfect excuse to destroy you."

Don ran his tongue across his lip and I could see him backing down.

He took a step back, putting some space between us. He stared at me for a moment longer, before snapping his head towards Kate.

"I'm offering you one last chance," he told her. "If you leave with me now, I'll be willing to forget all about your tantrum."

"My tantrum?" Kate narrowed her eyes at him. "You gave away _my_ share of _my_ apartment. You forged our signatures. You told me to go throw myself under a bus."

"Yeah, well, you wrote a load of lies about me in that stupid interview you did with him," he shouted, cocking his head at Christian. "You know all that stuff he said was a lie."

"I wrote the truth," Kate shook her head. "I know it was all true. You're evil."

"This is your last chance, Katie," Don growled. "If you don't accept my offer, that's it. You will never hear from us again. None of us. Not me, not your mother, not even your brother. You'll be dead to us."

Kate hesitated, her watery gaze fixed on her father's.

For a second I feared she would cave, give in to him, walk out behind him and resume a life of endless snide comments and belittling.

But, after a moment of silence, she crossed her arms and let out a small sigh.

"Go ahead," she replied. She shrugged her shoulders. "Cut me out of your life. I don't care."

"You will. Oh believe me, you'll care!"

"You disowned me at birth," she told him. "I don't want to be a part of your family. I don't want any of you in my life, not if this is how you're going to treat me. If I've learned anything since you stopped talking to me, it's that I was never the problem. You're the poison, not me."

Don ground his teeth together and rocked on his heels.

"I've made a lot of mistakes," Kate continued, her voice shaky but her words strong and confident. "I've treated people badly for no reason other than the fact I wanted to be more like you. I wasted so many years trying to please you. Impress you. Trying to make you love me. But what was the point? You're incapable of love."

"God, I wish we had aborted you when we had the chance."

Kate rolled her eyes at him. "You need to come up with something stronger than that if you want to hurt me. You've been churning out that line since I was ten years old."

"You're going to throw away your family for what? To prove a point?" he snorted.

"She's not giving up her family," I interjected. I sidled up next to Kate, shoulder to shoulder with her. "Because I'm her family."

"Bullshit –"

"Family isn't about DNA," I added. "Family are the people who care about you, love you unconditionally, people who would never dream of turning their back on you. That's family."

I felt Kate's hand brush against mine, her little finger hooking around my own.

"Someone pass me a sick bucket!" Don roared, throwing his head back with a laugh as fake as his hair.

Christian crossed over to my other side and brought his hand to the base of my spine. He stood reunited with me and Kate.

"You have one minute to vacate my building," Christian ordered. His voice was laden with a hardness I had never heard before. "Don't push me. You know I'm a man of my word and you know I'll take great pleasure in rearranging your face."

Don jolted on the spot, his eyes glazing over as the alcohol finally hit him. He gave each of us a scowl as he began making his way to the door, barely able to stand up straight.

"You're making a huge mistake!" he called out. "Bunch of fucking cowards!"

He slammed the door shut behind him, the noise making me jump.

Taylor sprang forward and charged after him.

"I'll make sure he leaves," he grunted. "And I'll find out which member of security he bribed."

"Deal with them however you feel necessary," Christian told him with a single nod.

As Taylor left the room, I turned to face Kate. My veins were throbbing with adrenaline but all of my concern was on her.

"Are you okay?" I asked, despite the fact she didn't look okay. Tears had started trickling down her cheeks, leaving behind a trail of black mascara from her eyes to her jaw. "Come here…"

I pulled her into me, hugging her as tight as I could.

"He j-just showed up out of n-nowhere," she stuttered, pushing her head into my shoulder. "He started shouting at me and I didn't know what to do…"

"It's okay," I shushed her. "Ignore whatever he said to you."

"Ana's right –"

Elliot cleared his throat and quickly walked over to us. Kate lifted her chin and shook her head as she glanced at him.

He didn't waste any time, didn't hesitate at all. He draped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her out of my hold, easing her into his arms instead. She curled into him and let out a whimper.

"You don't need people like him in your life," he told her. He pecked a kiss to the top of her head. "He's talking through his fucking ass. He's just lost the best thing he ever had, and one day he'll realise that."

Kate didn't reply. She kept her face hidden, burying it in his chest.

"Come on, I'll take you home," he offered, running his hands up and down her back. She jerked her head up and made a sound of protest. "My truck's downstairs."

"No, I'm –"

"I insist," he said with a gentle smile. "I've only had a few sips of champagne. I'm fine to drive, don't worry."

She hesitated.

"You'll be safe with me," he promised her.

That was enough for her to say yes. She nodded her head and slowly turned to face me again.

"I'll call you tomorrow," I told her. I wiped my thumbs under her eyes, catching the few tears still forcing their way out of her. "If you need anything, all you have to do is call. Okay? I'll be there."

"I'll be fine," she replied weakly.

She gave both me and Christian a sombre goodbye before she headed to the door, Elliot shuffling close behind her.

Christian cleared his throat and Elliot glanced back. I saw Christian shake his head at him. He didn't need to say anything - we both knew what he was warning Elliot.

 _Now is not the right time to make a move._

"I'm going to make sure she gets home okay, that's all," Elliot promised. "I'll be the perfect gentleman."

I waited until the door had closed once more and then I let out an exasperated sigh, exhaling all of the pent-up air in my lungs.

 _For fuck's sake._

I pressed my fingers into my temples, massaging the spot that was beginning to ache.

"I can't believe that just happened," I whispered. "I thought tonight was meant to be free of drama…"

Christian came up behind me, his hands slowly sliding around my waist. I dropped my hands to his, covering his fingers with my palms as they splayed against my lower abdomen. He nestled his face into the back of my neck, his lips meeting the warm skin at my nape.

"Life will never be drama free with me, baby," he sighed. "Everywhere I go, drama seems to follow me. Kavanagh might have come here tonight on the pretence of talking to Kate, but my gut tells me it's me he wanted to get at."

I gently nodded, agreeing with him.

"Do you want to go home?" he muttered, his breath vibrating against my flushed skin.

I nodded again, but neither of us made any effort to move.

* * *

Christian and I made our way back through to the lobby area, the party still buzzing and completely unaffected by the Kavanagh chaos.

"I need to speak to Ros before we leave," Christian said, turning his chin to me. "I'll be two minutes."

"It's fine, I'll wait over there for you," I smiled and pointed to the door.

He pecked my cheek and strode towards Ros, who was busy entertaining a group of people a few feet away.

I wandered over to exit, where the faux ballroom merged with the walkway that led to the elevators. I leaned back against the wall and stared down at my feet, hoisting my dress up to check my toes. They were slightly swollen and red, the sides of my shoes starting to dig into my flesh. I was looking forward to kicking them off as soon as we get in the car.

 _To think the evening started on such a high –_

 _And it doesn't look like it's about to improve any time soon…_

I pressed the back of my head into the wall and groaned, my eyes rolling as the Wicked Witch of Interior Design charged towards me.

"Where is Elliot?" Gia barked, her face twisting into itself. "I can't find him anywhere."

"He left," I sighed.

"He did what!?"

I pinched the bridge of my nose and counted to five.

 _I've just dealt with one asshole, I really don't have the patience for another…_

"Elliot has taken Kate home," I explained, sounding the words out carefully. I stared Gia in the eye. "They just left."

"Who the hell is Kate?"

"My friend."

"If she's your friend, why is Elliot taking her home?" Her voice was becoming shriller by the second. If I wasn't so tired, I would find it funny. But, right now, it was getting on my last nerve. "Shouldn't you –"

"Do you ever shut up?" I huffed, silencing her.

She jerked her head back in surprise.

"Seriously, just shut the fuck up."

"What did you –"

"Do you know how pathetic you look right now?" I shook my head at her. "We all know you used Elliot to get into this party because security wouldn't clear you… and I'm going to go out on a limb and say you only came here tonight in the hope of seeing him."

She pressed her lips into a hard line and quickly folded her arms, her feet stamping into the floor.

"The only reason Elliot didn't tell you to piss off and leave him alone is because he's too damn polite," I continued. "You're so desperate to rekindle whatever weird thing you and him had going on, you have ignored all of the hints that he's just not interested in you."

"I know Elliot. He wants me, I know he does. He's just –"

"Playing hard to get?" I guessed. "My god, you really are delusional. He left without even telling you. Doesn't that speak volumes?"

"That bitch must have made a move on him," she retorted, her cheeks burning like someone had lit a firework up her ass. "She's clearly offered it to him on a plate. A stupid blonde bitch who can't keep her hands to herself."

 _That was the last straw._

 _I'm done._

I inhaled a deep breath and peeled myself from the wall, taking a step closer to her.

"Don't call my friend a bitch," I warned. "The only bitch here tonight is you."

I clenched my fists and pressed my arms into my sides. I could feel every muscle in my body tensing.

"You know what," I continued before she could reply. "It's high time you learned that you're not better than everyone else, you're just a Barbie wannabe. It's not a good look on anyone, especially someone who's fast approaching their forties."

"How dare you!?"

"You're a jealous bitch," I shot back. "You insult people you feel threatened by."

"No one is a threat to me," she shook her head. "No one can match me."

"No, I don't think anyone can. Because no one wants to stoop that low." I scowled at her, pursing my lips for a moment. "You came into my home and insulted me, for crying out loud. If that doesn't scream petty, I don't know what does."

"I did not insult you!" she gasped. "How the hell did I –"

"You know you did," I sighed. "You can drop the act with me, Gia. I figured you out the second we met. You think the world revolves around you but, news flash, it doesn't. You think every man wants you and every woman wants to be you. Well, I hate to break it to you but you aren't that important."

She snapped her head back, as if I had slapped her clean across the face.

"Christian only hired you because he seems to think you're good at your job," I said. "But I can't agree with him, not when all I've seen from you so far is arrogance."

"You –"

"Gia, you're fired."

"What?" she growled. "You… You can't fire me!"

"I think I just did."

"But Christian –"

I edged forward on my sore toes and slowly shook my head at her.

"Don't you remember what he told you? About how I can have whatever I want?"

"He was talking about the designs!" she returned with a huff. She was trying to keep her cool but was failing miserably. "You can't fire me."

"Christian will always side with me," I smirked. "Whatever I say goes - I think those were the exact words he used."

Gia pulled her shoulders back, puffing out her chest with indignation.

"You think you'll find a better designer than me? I'm the best in this city."

"I'm sure we can afford to fly someone in," I replied with a shrug. "Now, if you don't mind, I need to return to my boyfriend."

I stepped to the side and ran my steely gaze up and down her body.

"Goodnight, Miss Matteo."

I headed straight for Christian and Ros, a grin plastered on my mouth as I approached them.

There was a light bounce in my stride, a spring I hadn't felt for a long time.

Despite my heartbeat pounding in my ears and the slight tremble in my fingertips, I felt calmer than I had done in months. Like I had finally released the pressure that had been building deep inside of me.

For possibly the first time ever, I was proud of myself.


	25. Chapter Twenty Four

**A/N: Hello Lovelies!**

 **I hope you're having a great weekend and I really hope you enjoy this chapter.**

 **For this chapter we're temporarily switching over to Elliot's POV, picking up from him and Kate leaving the Grey Ball. I know a lot of you want to know what will happen between them, so hopefully this will answer some of those questions. :)**

 **Much Love,**

 **Chelsea x**

* * *

 **DoloresDeeHowe** – Thank you! I'm really glad you liked it. I hope you enjoy this chapter too. Much Love x

 **SuzB** – Thank you! It was a shame the ball ended that way but I think they all got something out of it, especially Ana! I hope you had a great birthday too and I really hope you enjoy this chapter. Much Love x

 **Reds77** – Thank you! I'm so glad you liked it! I hope you like this one – it's kinda different but it should answer those Kate/Elliot will they, won't they questions! Much Love x

* * *

 **ELLIOT**

Elliot drew his Chevy to a halt outside Kate's apartment building, the engine chugging until he finally switched it off. As a mechanic he should have known it was time to take the battered, weather-worn truck to the scrapyard, but it was too sentimental for him. It had been his vehicle of choice since he was nineteen. He couldn't part with his pride and joy.

The entire street was silent, not so much as a slight breeze rattling through the air. There were no lights on in any of the nearby properties, only two other cars parked up and, unsurprisingly, empty.

They were well and truly alone.

Slumping back in his seat, Elliot rapped his knuckles against his thighs. His right knee started to bob up and down.

It had been a long time since he had felt this nervous, and he wasn't altogether sure why he was so nervous in the first place. It wasn't as if they were on a date. He had driven her home, nothing more. There was nothing going on between them.

 _And there never will be unless you tell her how you feel!_

Kate had finally stopped crying about ten minutes ago, just the occasional sniff coming from her now. They hadn't spoken since they got into the truck, and Elliot wasn't sure what he should say to comfort her. The silence circling them was fast becoming uncomfortable.

"Thank you for bringing me home," Kate mumbled.

He turned his head to her and caught her offering him a small smile. It didn't quite reach her watery eyes, but it was a reassuring sign.

"You didn't have to drive me home," she added.

"I wanted to," Elliot shrugged his shoulders. "I didn't like the idea of you hanging around on your own, waiting for a taxi."

She narrowed her eyes at him, her gaze momentarily shifting to her Mercedes parked ahead of them.

"How did you know I didn't drive to the ball myself?"

"Um…" he hesitated. "I didn't see your car when I arrived, so I just assumed…"

He could feel his cheeks burning up.

He didn't want to admit that he had purposefully circled the parking lot four times, trying to find her red Mercedes.

Or that he had been struck by disappointment when he didn't spot her car at the ball, frustration filling him at the mere prospect of her not being there.

And he sure as hell wasn't going to confess that his jaw nearly hit the floor when he first laid eyes on her tonight. She had looked beautiful. Absolutely stunning.

"Right," she slowly nodded. She pointed up at her building. "Would you like to come in? I know I really need a coffee."

 _YES._

His heart was thumping, ready to burst out of his chest and land straight on her lap.

He had to gulp down his eagerness, reminding himself of the look he had shared with Christian. Now wasn't the time to declare his undying love for her. She had endured more than enough drama for one night. She needed peace and calm right now. She needed friendship.

He should walk her to the door, turn around and leave.

That was what he should do.

But Elliot had always been a rule-breaker…

"Sure," he nodded. "Caffeine would be good."

He found himself shuffling close behind her as they exited the truck and entered her building. He kept a few paces back as they climbed the stairwell and approached Kate's door. He tried really hard not to stare at her ass as she walked ahead of him. It was nearly torturous.

The apartment looked the same as it did the last time Elliot had been there, everything exactly how he remembered it. He had come over several times while Ana was in hospital, after the fire at the club. He was there to help pack up her belongings, to take over to Christian's place. His brother had been adamant that Ana was officially moving into Escala. Elliot had helped carry boxes down to his truck, Kate doing all of the packing and organising herself.

That was the last time he and Kate had been alone together.

Kate threw her keys into the fruit bowl near the door and bent over to take off her shoes, dropping down to her usual height. She pressed against the wall and rubbed her toes, grimacing for a second.

"Take a seat," she said, glancing up at Elliot. "I'll make the coffee. You still take it black, right?"

"Yeah, I do, thanks."

He crossed over to the couch and positioned himself on the one side, taking way too long to decide how he should be seated. One arm draped along the back? Cross-legged? Hands on his lap?

 _Just relax, you fucking moron._

He gazed at Kate as she fiddled with her coffee machine, finishing up the second of the two drinks. His pulse fluttered as she tucked her hair back behind her ears before she lifted the steaming mugs. There was something about seeing her entire face that made him go a little weak at the knees. Her features were dainty and almost elven-like, her eyes the colour of seafoam. He could recall every detail of her face, her image etched permanently into his memory.

"Thank you," he quickly grunted as she extended one of the mugs to him. He took a sip, his tongue burning. "Tastes great."

"It'll taste even better if you don't set your mouth on fire," she quipped.

He grinned at her and stared as she settled into the other end of the couch. She brought her feet up, her legs pressed to her chest. She gripped her coffee between her palms, resting the mug on her knees, her eyes fixing on the whirls of steam billowing from the top.

"Are you feeling okay?" Elliot tentatively asked.

She didn't look up at him and he couldn't tell if it was self-preservation that stopped her from meeting his eye, or whether she was worried about something else.

Was she embarrassed for crying in front of him? Did she think it was too intimate? Or was it just her father's despicable behaviour that had unsettled her?

"I've felt better," she finally muttered back, shrugging her shoulders. "Not exactly how I wanted the night to end."

 _Me neither_ …

"Is your dad always like that?"

"Drunk? No."

"I meant an absolute fucking bastard towards you?"

She let out a small huff, it almost sounding like a snort.

"He hates women," she sighed. She shook her head and dragged her eyes away from her coffee. Elliot gulped as she stared at him with anguish in her gaze. "He thinks men should rule the world, women should shut up and do as they're told… He never even wanted me."

"Because you're a girl?"

"He didn't want another kid after my brother," she shook her head again. "My mom called me an accident, my father called me the biggest mistake of his life... So, yeah, he's always been a prick to me."

Elliot clenched his jaw, anger vibrating through him.

He hadn't always treated women right in the past, but he made sure he showed them respect and that they always felt safe in his presence.

"He's living in the stone-age," he remarked with a grumble. "And let me guess, he treated your brother like a prince?"

She rolled her eyes in agreement.

"You don't know the half of it," she tutted. "He was always encouraging Ethan to be big and strong, to stand up for himself. I used to copy him, to gain Dad's attention… I morphed myself on him. I used to treat people like shit, for no reason at all. I hated who I became."

"You behaved like him in the hope you'd bond over it?" he guessed. "That he'd admire you for it?"

She nodded.

"It wasn't until I was about fifteen that I realised he didn't want me to be strong. He wanted me to keep out of the way, so he could pretend I wasn't there."

"Didn't your mom ever step in?"

"God no!" she shook her head. "She's way too scared of him. He's never raised a hand to her, not that I'm aware of, but he doesn't need to. His bark is worse than his bite. You only saw a snippet of what he's like."

Elliot could feel his chest tighten. His fists were eager to pummel Don Kavanagh until he was dust.

"Do you talk to your brother or mom?"

"Not since the article came out," she replied. "As soon as my interview with Christian was published, they all dropped me like a hot potato. My father told me to kill myself and Ethan has refused to take any of my calls. I should have known he would always side with Dad in the end."

Kate retreated into herself for a moment, her eyes starting to glaze over again. It pained her to lose her brother's alliance. She had always been close to Ethan, she loved spending time with him, so it was a wrench to no longer have him in her life. It was like losing a limb.

Something plagued Elliot as he stared at her, a question gnawing away at him.

He cleared his throat, forcing Kate out of her thoughts.

"Can I ask you something?" he muttered. She shrugged but didn't object. "You flinched when he called you Katie. How come?"

She slammed her eyes shut at the name, having to take a deep breath to steady herself as those memories came rushing back.

"If you don't want to –"

"You know how some parents use your full name when you're in trouble?" she asked, interrupting his protestation.

"Yeah," he nodded.

Oh boy did he know about that.

Every time he did something wrong when he was a kid, all he would hear was _ELLIOT LUCAS TREVELYAN GREY, get your butt down here right now_.

Grace and Carrick had chosen to make Lucas one of his middle names, a nod to his previous surname. He was eighteen months old when his birth parents died in a car accident. They were killed instantly. From what Elliot knew about them, they were good people. Well-respected, honest, homely people whose lives were cut short by a drunk driver.

"Well, my father used to call me Katie," Kate explained. She was squirming, pressing deeper into the cushions surrounding her. "If he was annoyed with me, he would call me a piece of shit, pathetic, a waste of time and money… But when he was furious, he would call me Katie. He would stand at the top of the staircase and order me to go to my room, knowing I would have to walk past him to do so."

She shuddered as she recalled those terrifying moments. A five-year-old should never be tormented in the way Don Kavanagh chose to scare his daughter. It wasn't about bruising her or making her bleed – he wanted to get inside her head.

"He used to block my way and as I stepped under his arm, he would lean down and whisper in my ear. _Be careful, Katie. Be very careful. One day the monsters will come get you. I'll let them take you. I'll let them kill you_ …" she trailed off for a second, closing her eyes. "It used to scare the life out of me. Even now it sends a shiver down my spine."

"You're much better off without him," Elliot said. He reached out and rubbed the top of her foot with the palm of his hand. "I'm so sorry you had to put up with that kind of treatment. You didn't deserve that."

"I guess Ana was right all along," she snorted, managing to crack a light smile. "Me and Christian do have something in common. We've both had fucked up childhoods."

"Don't let it hold you back, though," Elliot shook his head. "Don't let it define you. You're stronger and better than that… I promise you, they're the ones who are missing out."

His hand remained on her foot, his fingers gently tracing circles onto her smooth skin. It sent a shiver through Kate, goosebumps prickling all over her body.

"Thank you for being there tonight," she mumbled. "It means a lot."

"I'll admit, I was this close to ripping his head off," Elliot snorted, pinching his thumb and forefinger together. "Heck, I thought Ana was going to eat him alive. She was on fire!"

"I know," Kate smiled. The apples of her cheeks began to warm up again. "I've never seen her like that before."

"Therapy is clearly working wonders for her."

"Christian told me she was getting better, but I didn't believe him," she admitted. "I didn't see how she could've improved in such a short amount of time. It wasn't that long ago she was a complete wreck, when any little thing would send her into a meltdown."

While Elliot hadn't witnessed Ana having an anxiety attack, he had heard all about them from Christian. It sounded terrifying – watching somebody fall apart like that, unable to catch their breath or think straight, crippled by fear.

"I thought we would never get her back," she whispered, the words catching in her throat. "I thought we had lost her."

"Nah, I think she's a lot stronger than anyone realises," Elliot shook his head. "She's a pocket rocket."

Kate chuckled under her breath and took a deep glug of her coffee.

"Did you know Christian's thinking about telling Ana about the notebook soon?"

"What?" he gasped, his brows shooting up his forehead. "Are you serious?"

"I had exactly the same reaction when he told me," she nodded. "But after seeing Ana behave like that tonight, I think he's probably right. She's ready. She can probably handle it now."

"You don't think it's a bit soon?"

"The sooner she finds out the better," she shrugged. "Christian's worried she'll hate him for keeping this from her."

Elliot knew it was much deeper – more complicated – than that.

Christian's biggest fear was losing Ana, and not just the prospect of her breaking up with him. He fretted over losing the very essence of who Ana is. He was intent on protecting her in every way possible – physically and emotionally. No one could say what another breakdown would do to Ana. If she could pull through another tumble into despair.

"I think there's a chance she'll be angry, though," Kate admitted with a nod. "Not with him, I don't think, but over the whole situation."

"Yeah, I guess," he hummed. "We were all angry when we found out."

Elliot had felt sick to his stomach when Christian showed him Elena's notebook. He couldn't bring himself to look inside it, couldn't look at the list of people she had manipulated and abused.

It didn't matter that only three people in that book were minors when she seduced them. Every single person she used was a victim of her evil mind games.

"How are you getting on with that boy Jake?" Elliot asked. "Christian said you're talking to him?"

"It's going well, so far," she hummed, nodding her head. She pushed her elbow into the back of the couch and rested her head on her hand. "He replied straight away. He seems like a pretty chilled out kid, all things considered… I've spoken to him about Elena and he hasn't shied away from the conversation, which I think is a good sign. He knows I work for Christian and I've mentioned Christian to him, but I think I need to build up more trust with him first. You know, before I suggest they meet each other."

"You're doing an amazing job," he said, his eyes roaming her face. He couldn't help but be in awe of what he saw in front of him. "I don't know many people who would do what you're doing."

"I just want to help in whatever way I can." She tried to brush it off, but the flush spreading over her face and neck gave away her embarrassment at the compliment. "Christian's helped me a lot, so I want to repay the favour."

The air became still between them, but it didn't feel awkward. Whatever tension there was had now dissipated. They were just two people sitting on a couch, talking freely and openly with each other.

Elliot realised he had to clear some things up, set the record straight.

"There's something I need to tell you," he said, sitting upright. Kate raised her eyes to him, her gaze urging him to go on. "The woman you saw me with earlier. I want you to know there's nothing going on between us. I didn't know she was going to be there tonight."

"Right…"

"Gia pounced on me as soon as I arrived," he continued, hoping she would believe him.

"You know her?"

"We used to date," he sighed. "It wasn't serious. It was just a bit of fun, that's all."

"How long were you two together?"

"We were never actually together. We weren't official."

Kate remained silent, waiting for him to answer the question. She wasn't interested in the technicalities.

"But I suppose we were fooling around, on-and-off, for about ten years."

"Ten years!?" she repeated, her face stretching with surprise. "Jesus Christ."

"I haven't been anywhere near her for a long time," Elliot promised. "Not since I met you. I swear. I don't care about Gia. I'm not interested in her."

 _I'm interested in you_ …

"Does she know that?" Kate wondered. "Because the way she was hanging off you earlier, it's obvious she's still into you."

"Gia's a leech," he shrugged. "She knows how I feel. She's just desperate."

"Oh…"

"It's not Gia I want," he confessed. "I've only got my eye on one girl."

Kate licked her lips, nervously.

"I'm so sorry for how things ended between us," he apologised. "I didn't want to hurt you. That was the last thing I wanted to do."

"It just wasn't meant to be," she muttered, trying to play it down.

But the truth was, it had killed Kate when Elliot dumped her.

He had brought their relationship to an end before it even began, worrying that it would further complicate things between him and Christian. It was difficult enough dating your brother's girlfriend's best friend – but add in the fact Kate hated Christian back then and it was a total recipe for disaster. It was never going to end well.

"I think it was," Elliot protested in a shy voice. "I think it was meant to be. It was just the timing that was bad."

Kate stared at him for a long time, studying his expression, as if trying to figure out if he was being genuine or not.

"I really like you," he whispered.

Slowly, Kate lifted from her corner of the couch and shuffled over to him. She took both of their mugs and pushed them onto the coffee table, freeing them for her next move.

It all happened so fast.

She was on his lap, straddling him, her hips grinding into his.

His mouth was eager, sucking at hers with an intensity Kate had never experienced before.

His hands roamed her body, sliding all over her soft curves.

It was electric. Everything he wanted and more.

He let out a soft groan as she reached down between them and tugged on his belt buckle.

"We can't," he sighed, peeling his hands from her waist.

He held her face away from his and slowly shook his head.

"I'm sorry, but we can't."

She sank down onto his thighs, her chest deflating. She could feel he was hard, his pants straining over that part of his anatomy.

"It's not that I don't want to," he quickly added. He kissed her lips again. Softer this time. "Trust me, I _really_ want to."

"What's stopping you?"

"I just…" he gulped. He shook his head again. "I don't want to fuck this up. You're too special. Too important to me."

"Elliot –"

"I don't want this to be just a quick fuck on a couch," he admitted. "I want us to be more than that… I think we moved too fast the last time. I moved too fast."

"I didn't object," she reminded him. "I was as eager and willing as you."

"I want this to work. I really want you, Kate."

"You do?"

"Are you kidding?" he snorted. He leaned his head back and allowed his eyes to take in her whole body. "Kate, you're fucking perfect. You're beautiful, funny, intelligent, caring… Why wouldn't I want you?"

She closed her eyes to save herself from crying. It was too much. Too many emotions flooding her all in one go.

Elliot sat forward and hugged her to him, his arms tight around her torso.

"I'm not saying no," he whispered. "Because god knows I won't be able to keep my hands off you for long… but I want to do it properly this time. Take some time to get to know each other. Give me time to woo you."

"Woo me?" she chortled, her chest bobbing against his as she laughed. "I think we're past the wooing stage if I've just thrown myself at you."

"It's because I'm so irresistible," he joked. He combed his fingers through her hair. "I want to take you to dinner. I want to prove to you that I'm not some asshole who is only interested in one thing."

"I'd like that," she confessed in a low whisper.

They remained exactly as they were for the longest time, neither of them willing to break away from this moment of undisturbed, uncomplicated bliss.

"Please stay here tonight," Kate pleaded. "I don't want to be alone."

Elliot could feel the tremble in her voice.

It unnerved him.

"Are you worried your dad will come here?"

She gingerly nodded her head against his shoulder. He pressed his fingers under her chin and lifted her face up to his.

"I think he's been following me," she revealed.

"What do you mean?" he frowned. "Like, stalking you?"

"I thought I saw him this afternoon, when I went on my lunch break. I was outside Grey House and I think I saw him," she said. "It's happened a few times. I think that's how he knew about the ball. He must have followed me and realised what was happening."

"Have you told Christian?"

She shook her head.

"Have you told anyone about this?"

"I didn't think it was important," she muttered, apologetically. "I thought he was just trying to scare me, but after tonight… I don't know what he'll do. He said he'll cut me off but he never sticks to his word. He's a liar."

Elliot could tell she was genuinely concerned that her father would make another appearance, this time cornering her in her own home.

If Don Kavanagh wanted to come back for round two, Elliot would make sure he never bothered Kate again. He would take great pleasure in ripping the bastard apart.

Not that Kate's father would be reckless enough to go up against any of them for a second time. He was the only coward around here. Elliot didn't need alcohol to confront the likes of him.

Elliot nodded his head and dropped his eyes to the couch. It was on the smaller side but he had slept on far worse. After one particular night of drinking, several years ago, he had somehow ended up sleeping in a dumpster…

"You can have Ana's old room," Kate offered, as if reading his mind. He smirked back at her. "I've got some linen in my closet. It'll only take a few minutes to make up the bed."

"Sounds great."

She eased off his lap and smoothed down her dress as she disappeared into her bedroom.

Elliot went back to the door and checked it was locked before making his way to the spare room. He slipped off his jacket and flung it over the empty desk under the window.

"I hope you don't mind butterflies –"

Kate came into the room carrying a stack of sheets covered in blue and pink insects. She dropped them onto the bed and began tying her hair back into a bun.

In the time she was gone, she had changed out of her velvet dress and into a pair of grey sweatpants and a pink camisole. Elliot resisted the urge to grin at the sight of her. As much as he liked it when she was dressed to the nines, he really loved it when she was wearing something casual and comfortable. He loved those two sides of her – the showgirl and the homebody.

"Butterflies are fine," he nodded. "I love them. But it'd be another story if they were moths… I'm not a fan of those bad boys."

"Moths?" she narrowed her eyes and shook her head. "Aren't they basically the same thing?"

"Heck no!" he said, his voice lifting an octave. "Moths are assholes. Furry fuckers that smack around lightbulbs, pissing you off all night long. They're totally pointless. At least butterflies are pretty to look at."

Kate giggled at him. It was a delicious sound to Elliot's ears.

It took them no more than ten minutes to put the fresh sheets on the bed, the pair working in perfect harmony.

"Do you need anything else? Another blanket, maybe?"

"No, I'll be fine," he grinned.

"Well, you know where everything is, so feel free to help yourself…"

The silent look they shared spoke volumes.

They were both thinking about Elliot sneaking into her room later, picking up from where they left off on the couch…

"Come here –"

He opened his arms and beckoned her forward. She gladly stepped into his hold, her hands knotting in the base of his spine.

"Slow and steady wins the race, right?" he mumbled, pecking a kiss to the top of her head.

"You really meant what you said? About us?"

"Every word," he nodded. "I'll be right in here, if you need me. I'm not going anywhere."

"Thank you."

Leaning her head back, she smiled at him and took a moment to study the smooth planes of his face. He had such boyish features, appearing far younger than his years. She loved the tiny dimples in his cheeks that pierced deeper with every grin.

"I'm glad you're here," she hummed.

"Me too."

After a soft peck to his lips, Kate excused herself and closed the door behind her.

Elliot waited until he heard her bedroom door close before he flopped down onto the bed, letting out a low groan. It took all his restraint not to throw her down on his bed and ravage her. He wanted to tear at her clothes and worship every inch of her body.

 _There's time for that…_

 _Be a gentleman, for once in your life. Treat her like a princess._

Reaching down into his pocket, he pulled out his phone and unlocked the screen.

He grimaced as he saw a long list of notifications, Gia's name heading all of them.

"Fuck off, Gia…"

He did something he should have done a long time ago.

He blocked Gia's number and deleted all of the messages she had sent him, the thread several years old. Ensuring a clean cut from her, he signed into Facebook and blocked her on there too. It was time for a fresh start. No more going back for sloppy seconds.

Pushing Gia out of his thoughts, he put his focus back onto Kate. He opened up the internet and searched for a local florist. Because princesses deserved flowers. They deserved to be spoilt rotten.

He placed an order for the biggest bouquet the store had to offer. He didn't know what type of flowers Kate liked, so he chose a little of everything. Roses, tulips, peonies, sweet peas. He wasn't sure what the difference was between most of them, but he hoped she would appreciate the elegant, rainbow coloured bloom.

Before confirming the order, he added a personalised note to be included with the delivery.

 **I meant what I said. We'll find a way to make us work.**

 **You are perfect to me. You're the only one I want.**

 **Elliot xo**

He dropped his phone onto the bed and raised his arms up, pushing his hands underneath his head. He stared at the ceiling and allowed himself to bathe in the rush of excitement and hope that was bubbling inside him.

Elliot fell asleep quickly and peacefully, dreaming of the blonde-haired beauty in the next room.

They would come back to each other in time, however slowly they decided to take things. Because when it's meant to be, true love always finds a way.


	26. Chapter Twenty Five

**A/N: Hello Lovelies!**

 **I'm really glad so many of you enjoyed reading Elliot's POV.**

 **I hope you all enjoy this chapter. We're back in Ana's POV and things are about to heat up between our favourite couple.**

 **Much Love,**

 **Chelsea x**

* * *

 **Susan** \- Thank you! I'm glad you liked reading the last two chapters. I'm really sorry for your bad news, I'm keeping you and your family in my prayers! I hope you enjoy this chapter. Much Love x

 **SuzB** \- Thank you! I'm really glad you liked it! I'm glad Elliot and Kate are getting back together too. They are perfect for each other. I hope you like this chapter! Much Love x

 **DoloresDeeHowe** \- Thank you! I'm glad you liked Elliot's POV. I hope you enjoy this chapter too. Much Love x

 **Reds77** \- Thank you! I'm so proud of Elliot too! It would have been easy for him to take advantage of Kate in that moment, so I'm glad he decided to put a stop to it and wait until they're both 100% into it. Because, as you said, Kate probably would have regretted it afterwards. She wants a proper reconciliation and not just a drunken, meaningless fumble! I hope you like this chapter! Much Love x

 **iamdbomangmail** \- Thank you! I'm sure Don Kavanagh will get his in the end. Karma always come back to bite people on the backside! I hope you like this chapter. Much Love x

* * *

Christian only had one thing on his mind when we got home from the ball and it wasn't an early night with a cup of hot cocoa.

He couldn't keep his hands off me in the elevator, already tugging at my dress while his lips slid along my collarbone and up my throat. Thankfully, we were alone. Taylor, Sawyer and Jaz had left as soon as they dropped us back at Escala, heading off to stake out Don Kavanagh and make sure he didn't try anything else tonight.

I wasn't worried about Don, though.

My focus was fixed on a different man and his wandering hands…

My knees threatened to give out as his fingers skimmed over my breasts, bringing my nipples to hardened peaks.

As soon as the elevator doors parted, Christian bent forward and scooped me off my feet. Our chests were tightly pressed together, his hands linked under my butt, holding me up to his level. His mouth sucked at mine, maintaining a constant kiss until we were in our bedroom.

He kicked the door shut and quickly turned around, pinning me against the wood. He didn't bother to reach across and turn on the lights, the room illuminated only by the skyline.

"God, I can't wait to have you…" he moaned and thrusted his hips into mine.

I hooked my ankles around his thighs to keep my balance.

"For fuck's sake…"

I chuckled under my breath as I felt something vibrate against my leg.

Christian's face contorted, a grimace working its way through his dark eyes.

"Ignore it," he huffed, shaking his head. "Whoever it is can piss off. I'm not interested."

Unable to resist, I reached down and dug into his pocket to retrieve his phone.

I had no intention of making him answer the call. My finger automatically hovered over the reject icon, but my brows slowly pulled together as I saw Gia's name on the screen.

Christian glanced down at the phone and vehemently shook his head.

"Why the fuck is she calling me now?"

"Um…"

He snatched the phone from my hand and threw it across the room. It landed with a heavy thud, bouncing off the corner of the bedside counter. I winced at the sound, knowing his screen would be smashed to pieces.

"I don't care," he grumbled. "I can replace it in the morning. It's not the first phone I've broken."

My frown deepened.

"What?"

"It scares me when you do that," I shook my head.

"When I do what?"

"Read my mind. You always know exactly what I'm thinking. It's weird."

He snorted and brought his lips to mine again. "Baby," he moaned. "I wish I could read your mind… It would make life so much easier…"

"Because I'm so difficult to live with?" I quipped.

"A total nightmare," he chuckled.

"Speaking of nightmares…"

I tried to stop myself from smirking too much, but my lips split high and wide across my face. He studied my expression, a grin twisting his mouth despite not knowing what had triggered my smile in the first place.

Pride was still swimming through me.

"I think I know why Gia's calling you," I hummed.

"Okay…?"

"I fired her."

His eyes lit up, shooting wide open. He reeled his head back.

"You fired her?"

"Yeah…"

"Seriously?"

I nodded and let out a long, arduous sigh. "I had enough. I totally snapped. She was being rude and you know what I realised? I just can't put up with that crap. Especially from someone like her. She's a bitch."

"So you fired her?"

"Right before we left," I nodded again. "She came over to me, demanding to know where Elliot was. She called Kate a bitch and that was it. I told her how I really feel about her."

"That you hate her guts?"

"With a passion."

"And then you fired her?"

I narrowed my eyes at him. His reaction was throwing me a curveball. He was hardly Gia's number one fan but -

"Is that a problem?" I tentatively asked.

"Yes!" he exclaimed. "It's a major problem that I fucking missed it."

"Huh?"

"You fired her and I didn't even get to watch?" A dimple formed in his left cheek as he shook his head at me, a laugh rippling through his chest. "You should have called me over!"

"You wanted to see me firing her?"

"You tore a strip off Gia Matteo – the pettiest bitch I've ever met - and I didn't get to witness it?" he sighed. "I would have paid good money to see that."

I stared directly into his eyes for a moment, seeing them creasing in the corners – the way they always do when he's about to smirk.

"Are you trying to tell me you like it when I'm angry and confrontational?"

"God yes! Do you have any idea how turned on I was when you went toe-to-toe with Kavanagh?" he shook his head again. His smirk started to make an appearance, the corners of his mouth lifting. "Jesus, I thought I was going to explode."

"What?" I frowned. "Are you serious? _That_ turned you on?"

"It was so fucking hot," he said. "Seeing you like that… ruthless, determined, standing your ground. _Fuckkk_ …"

He jerked his hips into mine, forcing me to feel the heaviness that was straining through his pants. He was hard and throbbing, that part of him eager for release. I could almost feel the desperation radiating from him.

"It was like you were possessed," he added. He ran his tongue across his lower lip. "I've never seen you like that before. I didn't know you had it in you."

"Neither did I," I admitted. "I don't know what came over me. I just knew I had to say something."

"You were incredible."

He brought his mouth to mine and sucked a gentle kiss from me. I could feel my cheeks starting to blush, the pink inevitably trickling down the entire length of my body.

"I loved seeing you like that," he panted, pressing his forehead to mine. "Seeing you so strong… There isn't a day that goes by where you don't find a new way to amaze me. The way you handled Kavanagh, it was bloody perfect."

I hadn't even thought about it beforehand. I was acting on instinct. An instinct I had never felt before. It was totally out of character for me.

The old Ana wouldn't dream of confronting anyone, least of all an elder.

"Kate's my best friend," I replied with a shrug. "I just couldn't let him get away with it any longer."

"It's lucky for him you stepped in. I was close to ripping his head off."

"It wasn't your battle to fight," I shook my head. "He might have beef with you, but it's Kate he was gunning for tonight."

"Technically, it wasn't your battle either –"

"It was," I protested. I fingered the small tuffs of hair at the back of his neck. "He used me to hurt Kate and I let it happen. I didn't say anything for years… I wish I had done something a lot sooner."

I could have saved Kate when I first realised what was going on. I could have gotten her out of Don's clutches long before now.

 _You weren't strong enough then_ , the voice in my head reminded me. _But my god, you are now_...

"If you hadn't reacted the way you did tonight, I know for a fact either me or Elliot would have taken that bastard to task," Christian snorted. "I hate Kavanagh and everything he stands for, but Kate is important to me too. I won't allow anyone to belittle or hurt her."

I smiled at his words.

It gave me great comfort, knowing my friend and boyfriend were finally getting along.

"She's your best friend. Elliot's in love with her. And me?" his smile spread higher on his face, stretching all the way to his eyes. "I really like her. She's a good person. Fiercely loyal and always willing to help."

"She is," I nodded proudly. "She might be a Kavanagh by name, but she doesn't take after them in any way, shape or form."

"Thank god!"

I kissed him, soft and slow.

"I guess we're officially off the Kavanagh Christmas card list," I giggled.

"Ah, it's just one more person I've pissed off," he shrugged his shoulders. "I've always had more enemies than friends. I'm used to it."

"Well, you've never pissed me off," I said. "And we both know I'm the most important person in your life… or so you keep saying."

"That you are, baby," he purred. His tongue stroked mine into submission. "There's still plenty of time for me to piss you off, though… I'm quite good at rubbing people up the wrong way."

"You're rubbing up against me pretty well right now…"

He chuckled to himself.

"You know, even if I did piss you off, you'd forgive me straight away," he said. "You wouldn't hesitate in accepting my apology and moving on, like nothing even happened."

"You say that like it's a bad thing?"

"It's not a bad thing," he smiled. He pushed me higher up the wall, adjusting my position. I squeezed my legs tighter around him. "You're just very forgiving… which I suppose is a good thing for me, seeing as I'm bound to fuck this up sooner or later."

"You won't."

He began shaking his head, but I gripped his face between my hands to hold him still.

"Christian, there's only one thing that would make me break up with you and I know you would never do that to me."

"What?"

"Cheat."

He eyed me for a moment, his expression softening as he realised the impact of what I was saying to him.

Because we both knew he would never cheat on me. Not in a million years. It's not in his nature.

He only has eyes for me.

"Cheating is a hard limit," I explained. "I saw what it did to Ray, when my mother cheated on him. I swore to myself I would never allow anyone to do that to me."

"I would never," he promised. "I'd rather chop off my own dick."

"I know. But that's why you never need to worry about me leaving you," I smiled. "I trust you with every aspect of my life… my body, my emotions, _everything_. I know you would never hurt me."

I gave him the reassurance and promise that I'm in this for the long haul. Good times or bad, I'll stand by him all the way.

He didn't say anything in response, but he didn't need to. He chose to let his body do the talking.

Christian pushed his hand between us and tugged at my dress, raising it high enough to expose the innermost part of my thighs.

Slowly, he smoothed his fingers along my naked sex, gently parting my seam. His touch was light as a feather but still had the ability to make every nerve in my body scream.

He eased a finger into me, curling it upwards to find the sweet spot that made my spine arch, my chest jolting into his.

"Shall we do this here or on the bed?" he whispered, his lips hovering over mine.

"B-Bed…"

I wanted him on top of me. I wanted to feel his entire weight pressing down on me, skin on skin.

He retracted his hand from between my legs and gently set me down on the floor, my heels sinking into the carpet. My toes were still burning from being on my feet all night. I didn't think about taking my shoes off in the car, my thoughts were too busy reeling over what had happened with Gia. I was alive with the remnants of the buzz I got from firing her.

I slipped out of his hold and sloped to the bed. I dropped down onto the edge and leaned forward to unbuckle my shoes. As soon as my feet were free, I laid back on my elbows, propping myself up so I could stare at him.

There was a grin lingering on his mouth, his eyes narrow with wicked intent. It made me gulp in anticipation.

He held my stare as he started undressing. He began with his jacket and shirt, letting them drop to the floor around his feet. My breaths became more ragged as each item of clothing was shed.

His hands went to his belt and my skin prickled at the sound of the metal clinking, his zipper popping open one ridge at a time.

"You're doing this on purpose," I huffed.

"What?" he cocked his head to the side. "I'm just getting undressed."

"You're teasing me…"

"Are you wet?" he asked, his gaze dropping to my thighs.

I nodded once.

"Do you feel like you're going to scream if I don't come over there and touch you?"

I gave him an arched look.

"Then it's working," he laughed. "I want you screaming… I want you begging for me to fuck you."

He pushed his pants down and stepped out of them, kicking off his shoes as he finally made his way to me. His hand wrapped around his erection and stroked it from base to tip.

"You know how much I want you," I breathed, my chest feeling heavy. "How much I need you."

"Tell me what you want."

"You. It's always you."

"No," he shook his head.

He stood between my feet, still priming himself for me. His hand moved slowly but I could tell his grip was hard. I could practically see his veins throbbing. He was more than ready.

"I want you to be specific. What do you want me to do?"

"I…"

My brain was going foggy with my neediness.

I had to tear my eyes away from his groin. It took all my energy not to throw myself forward and take him in my mouth.

"I want you on your knees," I finally said, the words breaking free before I could even register them. "Between my thighs…"

He did as I asked, dropping to his knees in front of me.

He shuffled forward and parted my legs with his hands, pushing my feet up onto the edge of the mattress.

The silk of my dress slid smoothly against my body as he lifted it to my waist, leaving me exposed from the navel down. The cool air struck my skin and made me shiver.

He stared up at me as he brought his mouth to my apex.

"Oh god –"

I threw my head back and bunched the sheets between my hands, squeezing tight as he began ravishing me, swirling his tongue all over.

"This is my favourite place in the whole world," he muttered. He blew a steady breath over my mound, my stomach jerking in response. "You like that, baby?"

"Hmm…"

He teased two fingers inside me, thrusting them in and out.

My legs were starting to shake.

"I'm all yours," he whispered. "You own me."

"Christian… Shit!"

His fingers stroked that spot again and I cried out, my shriek flooding the room.

"Fuck!"

He quickly pulled away and clambered to his feet. I pushed myself higher up the bed, settling back down onto the sheets as he climbed over me.

His length quickly replaced his fingers. I screamed as he filled me.

I shuddered around him.

The spasms tore through me, beginning in my stomach and then firing throughout my body. Every nerve, every muscle, they all sang for him.

"Ana," he growled my name as he bucked his hips into mine. "Jesus…"

"Harder –"

He buried his face into the side of my throat, picking up his pace.

"Tell me you love me," he panted. "Please?"

"I love you," I moaned. "I love you more than anything… oh my god… yes!"

My words gave him his release.

He trembled, his body convulsing as he flopped down onto me, no longer able to support his own weight.

"Shit…" he huffed, his teeth grazing my neck. "I love you… it hurts how much I love you."

"I'm glad it's not just me who feels that way," I quietly giggled.

"Fuck no."

He lifted his head and found my mouth, stealing a wet kiss. His lips tasted salty from sweat, his forehead glistening with tiny pearls of exertion.

"We're in this together," he muttered. "Fucking crazy in love."

"Batshit crazy," I sighed. "It's a pretty good feeling, isn't it?"

"The best…"


	27. Chapter Twenty Six

**Hello Lovelies,**

 **I hope you're having a good weekend!**

 **As always, I hope you enjoy this chapter. More coming soon!**

 **Special mention for Cypher7 - thank you for the amazing suggestion for Carla's birthday present from Ana!**

 **Much Love,**

 **Chelsea x**

* * *

 **Lavendarjade** \- Thank you! I'm glad you liked the lemon. Much Love x

 **Susan** \- Thank you! I'm really glad you liked the last chapter. I hope you enjoy this one too! Much Love x

 **DoloresDeeHowe** \- Thank you! I loved Christian's reaction too. I hope you enjoy this chapter! Much Love x

 **Reds77** \- Thank you! Christian really does care about Kate now, they have a good relationship with each other which I think both of them appreciate! I really hope you like this chapter! Much Love x

 **Paula White** \- Thank you! I'm glad you liked it. I hope you like this one too. Much Love x

 **SuzB** \- Thank you! Ana is a lot stronger than she was. I think Christian may tell her soon... I hope you like this chapter! Much Love x

* * *

The weekend following The Grey Ball passed too quickly, but it was nothing short of perfect. Quiet, calm and relaxed. How every weekend should be.

Kate hadn't needed me, in the end. She had a strong resolve but, more importantly, she had Elliot. It seemed like they were finally back on track, their romance blossoming again.

I had called her on Saturday morning to check how she was, after the altercation with her father. She was chirpy down the phone, her voice light and bouncy. I was confused but happy by the change in her, and I soon found out the reason for her excitement.

Elliot had stayed over the night. Kate assured me that they were taking things slow, sharing only a kiss and a cuddle, but it was enough to make my own stomach fizz. She excitedly said this was the real deal, everything she wanted and more.

Because like Christian, all Kate wanted in life was someone to love her for exactly who she is.

And now she had found her perfect match…

Christian and I spent most of the weekend wrapped in each other's arms, only ever leaving the bedroom for food. Every time I felt my energy levels slip, I was carted off to the kitchen to fill my stomach until I was fit to burst. Sex with Christian was definitely a full body workout, every muscle feeling taut and exhausted after a session between the sheets. Yet, it didn't matter how many times we came together, my thirst was never fully quenched.

I don't think I will ever have my fill of him. I want him always – his hands on me, his lips pressed to my skin, his body curled around mine. I want his soul to always be connected to my own, no barriers between us.

Christian had spent a great deal of time in recent months trying to make our bed my safe place, somewhere I could let my guard down, shake off the world and allow my troubles melt away. And I do feel safe there. I always have, pre and post Maîtrise. But I think he failed to realise that it wasn't the bed that made me feel safe.

It was him.

I knew that as long as he was around – for as long as he's in my life – nothing and no one can hurt me. His love alone is enough to shield me from whatever crap is thrown my way.

I am a stronger person with him by my side, accompanying me on this long road I've found myself on.

I came to realise something in the wake of the ball: I haven't needed to rush to my safe place as often as I used to.

In the past, I have run to Christian for support, comfort and reassurance when the air around me feels too heavy, my demons too overwhelming to face up to. Lately, however, I've only come to him for love and affection.

I smiled as I pondered this. It felt like another piece of my shattered soul had been returned to me, slotting back into its rightful place.

* * *

I decided to pick up some lunch from the deli opposite SIP as I made my way back from the Post Office on Monday afternoon. I had waited in line for over forty minutes, sandwiched between screaming kids and gossiping old ladies, clutching my mother's birthday present between my hands.

I didn't try to pretend like I was mailing it for her benefit. It was purely for Ray, knowing it would please him to know that I had made the effort to reach out to her. I didn't think for a second she would even like the gift but, frankly, I didn't give a damn.

That morning I had hastily grabbed a copy of _A Breath of Fresh Eyre_ from my desk and wrapped it in brown paper. I scratched her address onto the front, sealing the package with her card tucked inside.

Was my mother an avid reader of historical fiction?

No. Tabloid magazines are just about the only thing she has ever read.

Was I sending her a copy of the book as a way of proving my worth? Showing off the fact I had a real job?

Maybe.

The primary motivation behind sending her the book was the fact I didn't have to pay for anything more than a cheap card and postage. I guess it was an editor's perk, having a pile of free, signed copies at my disposal. After the way my mother had treated me over her wedding and my graduation, I didn't want to waste the money on her. I knew it would be a miracle to receive so much as a thank you text in response.

But it didn't matter. I knew she was in the wrong, not me. And chances were, this would be her last chance to make amends.

I chomped through my lunch back at my desk, swilling it down with a cup of tea. Finishing up, I joined Mark in his office for a debrief. He asked me to visit him this afternoon so we could discuss the first months' sales for the very book I had just mailed to my mother.

I knew the numbers were good, but I hadn't anticipated just how successful the book had become. The total number of sales had far exceeded anyone's expectations, already surpassing half a million copies and showing no sign of slowing down.

"That's huge for any debut novel, but for us? _Jeez_ …" Mark blew out his cheeks and shook his head. "There's a good chance this will make the bestsellers lists. I can't even remember the last time we had a book on any bestseller list!"

"Really?" I exhaled in a long breath, my eyes wide with surprise. "That's incredible. I can't believe it."

"You should be extremely proud of yourself."

"Me?" I frowned. "No, I can't take any credit -"

"You took the lead on this, so you need to own it," he shook his head again. "I read the manuscript before I handed it over to you and it needed _a lot_ of work. You helped transform it into something out of this world but, most of all, you've helped Jess improve as an author. That's the mark of a great editor. Take pride in what you've achieved."

I blushed under the weight of his compliments, the smile on my lips starting to make my cheeks ache.

I had worked closely with Jessica Mikhali throughout the whole process, updating her as regularly as I could, always on hand to offer her any advice or feedback. I maintained an open-door policy, more for my benefit than hers. I was relying on her feedback as much as she was relying on mine! We were in this together – two complete newbies to the world of publishing. We were learning as we went along and I was grateful that she was my first author experience. I had heard some horror stories from my colleagues, so I know I lucked out with someone as chilled as Jessica.

"I spoke with her this morning actually, when I gave her the good news," Mark continued. "She was ecstatic and you know what she told me?"

I shook my head and he leaned forward, glancing down at the open notebook in front of him.

"Tell Ana how grateful I am for all her help," he read. "I can't wait to work with her again in the future. I couldn't have asked for a better editor. She's amazing."

My stomach rolled, joy bubbling through me.

"All the publicity we've had in the wake of its publication has been positive," Mark said, a grin tearing his face in two. "The reviews are insane, practically five-stars across the board. Bloggers are lapping it up, a couple of journalists are interested in doing some articles on SIP and our background. We've even seen a jump in sales of some previous publications!"

"I don't know what to say," I snorted, a laugh brewing in my throat. "I really can't believe this. It's incredible!"

"Word of mouth has done us the world of good," he nodded. "Some of it was connected to you and Christian, but the quality of the book is what has shone through that initial hype."

I remembered what Theo Trevelyan had told me at Christian's birthday dinner – how I should utilise the attention cast my way. Exploit it. Use it to showcase what is important, and my job was one of the most important things in my life.

If this was going to be the outcome of that media interest and fascination… Well, I can definitely cope with it.

"As long as everyone is happy, that's all I care about," I said with a confident nod. "I'm glad it's been so well received."

"You're one of the lucky ones," Mark smirked. "Not everyone lands a winner on their first project."

"Let me guess, your first book wasn't an instant hit?"

"It was this awful detective novel set in outer space," he groaned. He rolled his eyes. "I have no idea why we even published it. At the time, Sci-Fi was dying, so it really was a bad decision… I think it only sold five copies and I'm pretty sure the guy's mom bought all of them."

"SIP has clearly improved its submission criteria," I chuckled. I shook off the laugh and grinned back at him. "So… I've wrapped up the Mendes book and sent it back to Josh, and I've looked through the submissions on my desk."

"What are your thoughts?"

"There's only one that stands out."

"Do you think it has potential?"

"I do," I nodded. "The synopsis is interesting. It's got my curiosity sufficiently piqued."

"Okay. Go with your gut," he urged. "I trust your opinion. If you think it's worth pursuing, run with it."

"Really?"

"Contact the author and ask for the full manuscript, if they've already completed it," he nodded. He smiled back at me, a flicker of pride swimming through his dark eyes. "You know what to do from there."

"You don't want to check it out for yourself?"

"Nope –"

He bent down and rummaged inside his drawer full of chocolate. He pulled out a Hersey bar and slowly tore the wrapper apart.

"I've got a date with this gorgeous little baby," he sighed, looking wistfully at his selection. "And you know nobody comes between me and my chocolate."

"I do," I smirked. I rose from my chair and made my way to the door. "Enjoy."

"Don't you worry, I'm in heaven over here…"

* * *

Back in my office, I returned to my desk and sat down, letting out a small sigh. Jaz was across from me, in the far corner of the room, toying with her iPad. As I settled in, she glanced up at me, flicking her dark braids over her shoulders.

"Everything okay, ma'am?"

"Yes," I smiled.

Her expression softened and she gave me a curt nod.

"Can I get you anything?" she asked, eager to be put to good use. I wondered if she was bored out of her mind. I didn't envy her having to chaperone me all day long, but I certainly appreciated her dedication.

"No, I'm fine, thank you," I shook my head. I checked the clock on my computer screen. "If you want to take your break now, I don't mind."

Her brows pulled together, an uneasiness spreading over her face.

"Everyone needs to take a break now and then," I said. "Go stretch your legs or grab a coffee. Have an hour to yourself."

"Are you sure, ma'am?"

"Sawyer's downstairs," I reminded her. "I'll be fine. I'm not going anywhere."

Jaz hesitated a moment before finally nodding her head, accepting the offer. She turned off her iPad and stood up, placing it down on her empty seat. She pulled on her leather jacket and then cast her golden eyes my way, fixing me with a hard stare.

"I'll have my phone on hand," she muttered. "If you need anything, I –"

I raised a hand to silence her.

"Really, I'll be fine," I said, firmly. "If I need something, I'm sure Sawyer will be more than happy to help me."

She made a tutting sound before walking out of my office, closing the door behind her.

I let out a small chuckle.

There was a great deal of tension between Jaz and Sawyer, neither of them exactly enthusiastic about the other.

I hadn't witnessed any arguments or bickering between them, but it was obvious they didn't like each other. They were two wolves battling to become the alpha. I didn't think Sawyer liked the fact Jaz is his senior, that she has the final say over my security arrangements. He was demoted when he returned to working for me after Maîtrise – it was the only way I could get Christian to agree to it – so it must be difficult for him, seeing someone else taking on the role he once had. But I'm glad to have Sawyer fighting my corner again. I trusted him, even if Christian wasn't entirely sure.

Before I turned my attention to the computer, I lifted my cell phone and sent a quick message to Christian, wanting to share my good news with him.

His reply was instantaneous.

 **Fantastic! You worked really hard on that book. I am so proud of you. Let's celebrate tonight. C x**

 _There's no need to celebrate, I just wanted to let you know x_

 **Of course there is a need to celebrate. I want to toast my beautiful girlfriend and all her hard work paying off! C x**

My cheeks bunched together with a wide smile.

 _Well, your girlfriend would like you to know she's looking forward to seeing you tonight. She's missing you a lot x_

 **Please tell my girlfriend I miss her too. C x**

 _Message received. Have a good afternoon! x_

* * *

I was four chapters into the manuscript I had been emailed when there was a knock on my door, the sound jolting me out of the budding romance I was immersed in.

I glanced up to find Mark pushing his way into my office, carrying an enormous bouquet of white and pink long-stemmed roses.

"This is starting to become a habit," Mark joked, raising his chin to look at me from over the top of the luscious bloom. "Delivery just in for a Miss Anastasia Steele."

Lifting from my chair, I accepted the flowers and placed the vase down in front of me. A heady perfume wafted from the centre of the bouquet, the rich scent bringing a grin to my lips. Roses were my favourite flowers.

"I could have collected this from reception myself, you know?"

"I was down there anyway," he said, waving off the gesture with a flick of his hand. "Besides, I see pretty flowers and I naturally gravitate towards them… It's just a shame they weren't for me!"

I thanked him and dipped my hand into the roses, removing the small envelope sticking out. I already knew who had sent them. I could tell by his handwriting, my full name looped in perfect cursive.

 ** _Ana,_**

 ** _I wanted to start the celebrations early…_**

 ** _Congratulations on the first of many achievements. SIP is lucky to have you._**

 ** _Love always,_**

 ** _Your Christian x_**

My eyes drifted to the bottom of the card, to the postscript message he had added.

 ** _Please give Mark one of the roses from me. I don't want him to feel left out. x_**

Always so generous and thoughtful…

I carefully pulled out a white rose and offered it to Mark.

He frowned at me.

"It's for you," I smirked. "From Christian."

He snapped his chin down, confusion slicing through his features. He pressed a hand to his chest.

"Christian wants you to have it," I confirmed. "I'm serious. He said to give you a rose."

Mark's brows reached up to his hairline as he took the rose from me. He inhaled a deep sniff and his eyes practically rolled into the back of his head.

"It's like I'm on _The Bachelor_ ," he sighed, swaying on the spot. "What I wouldn't give for a man who loves to send flowers…"

"Maybe you should take the rose home and show Harry," I suggested. "Make him jealous. It might prompt him into sending you a little something."

"The only thing Harry sends me is a list of errands that need running," he sighed. "You know, it's a good job Christian's straight because I would have run off into the sunset with him _long_ before now. Can he get any cuter?"

"I'm sure he'll find a way to top this. He always does," I hummed. "He's a sweetheart."

"You're the luckiest girl in the world. Make sure you never let him go," he urged. "Men like Christian don't come along that often."

"I have no intention of ever letting him go," I shook my head. "He's a keeper."

Mark winked at me and slowly retreated, fawning over the rose as he trudged back to his office.

I studied my bouquet for several minutes, admiring the beauty and precision of the roses, each one identical and flawless.

Since I had started working here, I don't think I've gone a single week without receiving flowers. My desk is never without a bunch of something over-the-top and stunning.

For a man who claimed he didn't do romance, wasn't interested in hearts and flowers, Christian has most definitely found his romantic side. And long may it continue…

I picked up my phone again and took a photo of the flowers. I sent it to Christian.

 _Just had this delivered. Looks like I've got an admirer x_

Three dots danced on the other side of the screen, his reply imminent.

 **I've got competition? Guess I'll need to up my game… C x**

 _Mark loved the rose. He actually swooned. His infatuation with you has grown even stronger now x_

 **I'm glad he liked it. I've got to keep your boss happy, haven't I? Just in case I need to borrow you for some lunchtime fun… C x**

 _Bribing my boss so you can get your leg over? Tut tut! x_

 **Gotta get it when I can, baby. C x**

 _Fiend! x_

 **I think we should test the suspension in the SUV again. Make sure it's still OK. It seemed a little bouncy… ;) C x**

I bit down on my lip as a grin twisted its way around my mouth.

 _I was more concerned with the back seats. They felt a bit hard… x_

 **If I remember correctly you were on top of me, but I'm more than happy to change positions for you to check the firmness properly. C x**

 _How very generous of you! Especially as I know how much you love it when I'm on top x_

 **On top, underneath, I'll take you any way I can get you. C x**

 _The feeling is mutual x_

There was a slight pause before his next message came through.

 **I can't wait to see you later. I'm missing you like crazy. C x**

 _Some people might say you're obsessed with me, you know… x_

 **Baby, you could be in the next room and I think I'd still miss you! C x**

I pressed my lips together as I re-read his words.

 _You can't say stuff like that to me when I'm at work. You're going to make me cry one of these days! x_

 **Sorry…**

Another text popped up.

 **I can't wait to see you later and fuck you senseless.**

A laugh burst out of me.

 **Better?**

 _Much better! x_

 **I love you more than anything…**

I waited for the next message to appear.

 **And I love fucking you. You're a very fuckable woman.**

 _Shouldn't you be working? x_

 **I should be doing a lot of things right now… mainly, you.**

 _Are you feeling a little hot under the collar? x_

 **If I didn't have an afternoon packed full of meetings, I'd be at SIP fucking you on your desk right now!**

 _SIP is a family-friendly place. No hanky-panky over here! x_

 **I'm sure I could change your mind…**

I rolled my eyes at my phone, but deep down I suspected he was probably right. I don't think I would ever turn him away.

 _I have to get back to work now x_

 **Want me to pick you up after work? I'll be done at 6.**

 _I don't know what time I'm finishing. I'll text you later x_

 **OK. Don't work too hard. Love you.**

 _Love you too. Now get back to work and stop slacking off! X_

 **Yes, ma'am…**

 _No kisses all of a sudden? x_

 **Saving all my kisses for later.**

Another pause before my phone buzzed again.

 **Kidding. Typing too fast, that's all… See you later, baby. ILY. C xxx**


	28. Chapter Twenty Seven

**Hello Lovelies,**

 **I hope you all had a great weekend and I hope that you enjoy reading this chapter.**

 **More coming soon!**

 **Much Love,**

 **Chelsea x**

* * *

 **Susan** \- Thank you so much! That is absolutely wonderful to hear. I hope you enjoy this chapter! Much Love x

 **Paula White** \- Thank you! I'm glad you enjoyed it. I hope you like this chapter. Much Love x

 **Reds77** \- Thank you! Haha, yes, Mark is a bit desperate for some Christian Grey level loving/romance! I hope you enjoy this chapter! Much Love x

 **DoloresDeeHowe** \- Thank you! I'm glad you liked it. I love Mark too. If only everyone could have a boss like him! I hope you enjoy this chapter. Much Love x

 **iamdbomangmail** \- Thank you! That's very kind of you to say. I'm really glad you're enjoying this story and my writing. I hope you like this chapter! Much Love x

 **SuzB** \- Thank you! Their love is strong and unbreakable. It's why we love them so much! Much Love x

* * *

In the end, Christian didn't finish work at six o'clock. I thought it was a little ambitious when he said it, Mondays always an especially busy day for him.

He called me at 5:45pm, as he was making his way to his penultimate meeting of the day. There was no chance in hell he was getting out of GEH before seven.

"Don't worry about it," I assured him as I began packing up my things. "It can't be helped. It's fine."

"It's not fine," he huffed back at me. "Nothing pisses me off more than people who lack any sense of punctuality. If you say you're going to be somewhere at a certain time, make sure you're there or have a damn good reason for being late… Move the fuck out of my way!"

I turned to face my window, my eyes lifting to Grey House. I felt sorry for whoever was on the receiving end of Christian's frustration.

"For fuck's sake…" he sighed.

"Take a deep breath."

He did as I said, letting it out in a quick blow, the whoosh tickling my ear.

"Go wrap up your meetings and please, try not to rip someone's head off," I begged. "Shit happens and plans change. It's fine."

"I'll try to hurry things along," he promised. "Are you leaving work now?"

"In a few minutes," I hummed. "Sawyer and Jaz will make sure I get home okay."

"I know they will…"

"Christian?"

"Yes?"

"I love you," I smiled.

I heard a breath catch in his throat.

He exhaled a long sigh.

"I needed to hear that," he groaned. "Thank you, baby."

* * *

I took a shower when I got home and changed into my favourite white linen pyjamas. I scrubbed my face clean of makeup and pulled my hair into a loose bun on the top of my head.

My stomach was growling but I didn't want to dip into the pot Mrs Jones had left on the hotplate for us, so instead I grabbed a bottle of water and an apple from the kitchen and made my way to the television room.

Settling onto the couch, I picked up my laptop from the coffee table and brought it to life. I signed into my SIP account and downloaded the manuscript I had been working through earlier. I wasn't in the habit of bringing work home with me, but I had been unable to put it down. It had taken all my energy to even leave my office, I was so engrossed in the plot. It wasn't a masterpiece yet – it needed some serious tweaks here and there, and I had already stumbled across a couple of plot holes – but the story had potential. It was definitely the kind of book I would buy.

A strong, witty, Alpha male character with Byronic tendencies, matched with an equally strong, sharp and confident female narrator. Plenty of sexual tension and hilarious one-liners…

What isn't to love? It ticks almost every box.

I lost track of time, my gaze only lifting from my computer when I heard a gentle rap on the door behind me. I shot forward and snapped my head to the side. My lips curled into a smile as I found Christian filling the doorway, leaning against the frame.

"I didn't hear you come home…" I narrowed my eyes at him. "How long have you been standing there, watching me?"

"Long enough," he smirked.

He peeled himself from the door and crossed the room, coming to a stop in front of me. He leaned over and pecked a light kiss on my mouth, his hand carefully stroking the back of my head.

My gaze dropped to his free hand, acknowledging the bottle of champagne he was holding. I smiled to myself as I spotted a golden box tucked neatly under his arm. My favourite chocolates.

"Are they for me?"

"Who else am I going to buy chocolates for?" he chuckled, handing them over. "What are you doing in here?"

"Reading," I answered, my fingers fiddling with the velvet ribbon wrapped around the box. "Working, really… I wanted to get through some more of this new manuscript I received. It's really good."

"You looked like you were enjoying yourself," he hummed, nodding his head.

"How did your meetings go?"

He rolled his eyes and let out a small groan, signalling that he didn't want to get into it. From the look of him, he wanted to shake off the office and slip into boyfriend-mode.

"Let's just say, I'm very glad to be home," he sighed. He leaned forward for another kiss. "You've already showered?"

"I felt grubby," I nodded. "Couldn't wait until later."

"I'll go take one now," he smiled. His hand moved from the back of my head, tracing around to the front of my jaw. He stroked my cheek with his thumb. "I'll join you in here when I'm done. I'll sit with you while you finish your work."

He pecked my lips and slowly pulled away, walking back over to the door. I stared after him and watched as he stalled in the doorway. He stood still for a second, before spinning around to look at me again.

"There's something I need to talk to you about."

I quickly studied his expression, those words striking a chord in me.

"Now?" I asked.

He shook his head.

"No, it can wait until you're done," he assured me. "There's just something I have to get off my chest later."

"Are you okay?" I frowned.

"Me? Absolutely," he nodded. He gave me another smile and my shoulders relaxed in an instant. "I'll be back in a couple of minutes. We'll bust open those chocolates when I'm out of the shower."

He turned on the spot and sauntered out of the room.

"You can kiss my ass if you think I'm waiting until you're out before opening them," I called to him.

I slipped the ribbon off the box, removed the lid and tissue paper inside, and grinned at the luxurious selection in front of me.

"Save me a caramel one –" I heard him say, his voice growing distant, a light chuckle swimming through to me.

* * *

An hour and a half passed before I shut down my computer, deciding to finally call it a night on the work front. My eyes were starting to become dry and scratchy, the words on the screen jumbling together.

I placed my laptop down on the coffee table and reclined back into the couch, stretching my arms over my head.

"Finished?" Christian asked, glancing over at me from the other end of the couch.

He had come back into the television room shortly after his shower, when his hair was still wet and his skin flushed a bright pink. He settled down and watched some TV while I worked, chomping through the chocolates I had set down between us. It was going to be a late dinner for us.

"Yeah," I sighed.

I shuffled over to him and lifted up his arm, securing it around me. I curled into his side and smiled as I felt his lips brush against the top of my head.

"What's it about? The manuscript you're reading?"

"It's a contemporary romance," I mumbled. "It's about a businesswoman who hooks up with a stranger she meets in a bar. They have fun and then go their separate ways. Fast forward a couple of weeks and he turns up at her workplace."

"Is he a stalker?"

"No," I snorted. "She is looking to expand her business but needs investors. This guy is one of the possible investors she's meeting with. It's super awkward when they reunite because she doesn't like mixing business with pleasure."

"So, does she turn him down?"

"I don't know yet," I shrugged. "The last bit I read ended with him giving her an offer she can't refuse."

"Sex on a copy machine?" he quipped. His chest shuddered as he laughed. I jerked my head up and smirked at him. "Go on, what's the offer?"

"Well, he really wants to invest in her business because it has a lot of potential. He won't let someone else take it. So, if she agrees to let him invest in the company, he promises to give her one week of his undivided attention," I explained. "He'll fly her out to a private island, so the two of them are alone. He'll be at her total mercy. Whatever she wants from him, she can have it. But only for a week."

"He's agreeing to become a life-sized sex toy for her?"

"Kinda," I chuckled. "But she's torn. He's really hot and the night they hooked up, it was the best sex she's ever had. He made her feel alive… And she really wants him. Every time she looks at him, all she wants to do is rip off his clothes."

Christian eyed me for a moment, a slight frown creasing his forehead.

"Are there sex scenes in this book?" he asked. I nodded my head. "Explicit sex scenes?"

"Oh yes! Very explicit. I'm talking X-rated. Even down to the descriptions of his you-know-what."

"I'm not sure I want you reading that kind of book," he hummed. "All of that sordid, dirty language…"

I grinned at him. There was a smirk desperate to twist its way around his lips.

"But it could totally work in your favour though," I whispered, easing up so we were nose to nose. "You see, those kinds of scenes might turn me on… which means I'll need you to help me scratch that itch, so to speak."

His brows shot up his forehead.

"You need to finish reading that fucking book!" he grunted. "Because, baby, I am all yours. Day or night. If you need sex, I'm there."

"Always ready to go, huh?"

"You have no idea how much restraint I have to practise every day," he said.

He pulled me into his side and kissed me, his tongue lightly stroking mine.

"I know you must find it boring," I said as I retracted from his lips. "Hearing me talk about books and work."

"What? Are you kidding me? I love it," he shook his head, grinning. "I love hearing you talk about the stuff you're interested in. I love how passionate you are about that kind of thing."

"Really?"

"I might not be as big a reader as you and I don't profess to have any interest in chick-lit," he said. "But I get my kicks out of seeing you so enthusiastic and excited about what you're reading. It's sexy."

I pursed my lips at him.

"So, let me get this right – you love it when I'm passionate and talking non-stop about stuff that doesn't interest you at all, and you also love it when I'm tearing some asshole to shreds and telling them exactly how I feel about them?"

"I fucking love it," he laughed. "I love this side of you. You've come out of your shell so much."

"I know," I mumbled. "It's weird."

"It's amazing."

He traced a hand up and down my arm, the backs of his fingers stroking me through the thin material of my top. He brushed the tip of his nose against mine, the intent in his eyes as clear as day.

"Wait –" I mouthed, tilting my head back. "You said you wanted to talk to me about something."

"Huh?"

"Before you showered?"

"Oh –"

His eyes widened, his torso tensing slightly. He reached for the TV controls and switched it off.

"Right… erm…"

"Are you sure you're okay?" I asked.

It wasn't that I was getting an uneasy vibe from him, but I could tell he was trying to ready himself for whatever he needed to talk to me about. He seemed… nervous?

Was it about his birth mother or his childhood? I knew he and Flynn had been working on his childhood in their sessions together…

"It's not about me," he muttered. "Not really."

He shifted away slightly, so he could face me properly.

I brought my feet up onto the couch, tucking them under me.

He inhaled a deep breath and met my gaze, his soft grey eyes latching onto mine.

"About a month ago I received a –"

His voice was cut off by the sound of his phone rattling against the coffee table. I glanced over and saw it sliding across the glass, an incoming call waiting to be answered.

"Ignore it," he said.

"It might be important," I shook my head. I reached across and picked it up, quickly checking who the caller was. "It's Kate. You should probably answer it."

He took the phone and frowned at the screen. He hesitated before pressing 'accept' and holding the phone up to his ear.

I knew that if Kate was calling him, it had to be important. Anytime she has phoned him, it has always been about something of significance rather than a trivial concern that can wait until the next time she sees him.

I glanced at the clock on the wall and noted the late hour. I shouldn't be surprised – Kate often works late into the evening these days. She is definitely pulling her weight at GEH, putting in all the hours she can.

"Kate?" Christian grunted her name, tapping his fingers against the back of his phone as he held it to his left ear. "What is it?"

He didn't move as Kate gave her reply. I could only just hear her voice, a muted and quick wittering on her end of the call.

"He's agreed? Seriously?" he breathed, his brows lifting. "And you explained everything to him? The reason I want to see him?"

There was a short pause.

"Did he suggest a date?"

More rapid wittering.

"Thursday?" Christian asked. "This Thursday? Right… It's a bit soon but… No, I understand. Did he say where?"

He leaned back into the arm of the couch. He bit down on his lip as a grimace teased at his features.

"No, it's fine. Tell him I'll be there," he sighed. "No, I already told you I want to meet him as soon as possible… Yes. We'll sort out the arrangements tomorrow morning. Come to my office as soon as you're in and we'll discuss everything properly."

He quickly wrapped up the call and dropped his phone down into his lap. I waited a moment before speaking.

"What's happening on Thursday?"

"I'm heading out of town," he huffed. He brought his hand to his face and rubbed his forehead. "I've got a meeting."

"Where?"

"New York."

" _New York?_ " I repeated. "You're going to New York?"

He slowly nodded his head at me.

"Wow," I exhaled. "That's a long way to go for a meeting."

"It's really important," he said. "I have to be there."

"Kate's arranged it for you?" I frowned. "I thought Andrea usually organised your meetings?"

"She does," he hummed. "But Kate has been acting as the go-between. She's been in contact with the guy I want to meet… She's been smoothing things over. I've needed her softly-softly approach for this one."

I nodded my head, as if I fully understood what he meant. Granted, I hadn't spoken to Andrea at length before, but she does come across as a bull in a china shop. But, then, I guess you would have to be forthright and a little stern to survive as Christian's personal assistant for as long as she has.

"Will you need to stay over in New York?"

"Unfortunately," he nodded. "I'll need to fly out there on Wednesday."

He stared at me for a moment, his gaze thick and heavy.

But in flash, something flickered through his features. He tilted his head to the side, his lips parting into an O-shape.

"What?" I frowned.

"You should come with me," he blurted.

"Huh?"

"You've never been to New York, have you?"

"No, I haven't but –"

"Then come with me," he smiled. "We can have a long weekend out there. Take in the sights. It'll be great."

"Christian, I can't," I shook my head at him. "I wish I could but I've got work."

"You're not working on Friday," he shot back with a hard frown.

He was right about that. SIP was closing down for the day so our systems can be upgraded. With the sudden influx of attention and profit margins increasing, the bosses have decided to upgrade our software and install some new printers on the ground floor. Everyone has been given Friday off with full pay.

"But I still have to work on Thursday," I told him.

"I'll call Mark and ask him to –"

"I've got a meeting," I interrupted. "Like you."

"Can't you rearrange it?"

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes, having to tell myself that if the shoe was on the other foot he would upturn his entire schedule to spend time with me.

But he's his own boss. He can do whatever the hell he wants.

I don't have that same luxury. And I hate taking liberties. I don't want preferential treatment. I want to earn my stripes at SIP.

"I've got an author coming in to see me," I explained. I pointed to my laptop. "It's the author of the manuscript I've been reading. I emailed her earlier and asked her to come meet me, so I can offer her a contract."

"Can't it wait until Monday?"

"She's flying in from Nashville especially," I sighed. "Besides, I can't cancel now I've agreed to it. I don't like messing people around, unless I can't help it. Surely you of all people can understand that? After the afternoon you've had?"

I didn't tell him that the author had been eager to meet as soon as possible. In my email asking for her full manuscript, I had included an invitation to discuss a contract and the next steps. She practically jumped at the offer, quickly arranging to meet on Thursday. I got the impression that she had sent her manuscript to numerous publishers and been rejected time and time again.

She had already booked her flights before confirming an appointment for first thing on Thursday morning.

Christian's face contorted as he shook his head.

"Sorry," he mumbled. He gave me a shy, unconvincing smile. "Of course you shouldn't cancel it. Ignore me. I'm just getting ahead of myself."

He brushed it off with a flick of his hand, but I could tell he was disappointed by my response.

"I'll call Kate back and rearrange my meeting," he said. "I'll see if we can change it for another day."

"No," I shook my head. I reached across and squeezed his knee. "Christian, don't cancel your meeting because of me."

"It's fine –"

"You said it's important."

"It's not as important as you." His jaw clenched. "I can't go to New York and leave you here, so I'm not going."

"You have to go," I urged him.

"No, I don't."

"You do -"

He opened his mouth to protest but I pressed my fingers deep into his knee, silencing him.

"We knew this would happen one day," I said. "We knew there would come a time when our schedules clash. When you're needed elsewhere."

"I –"

"You were always flying out of town before we got together," I added, cutting him off. "Everyone's told me that you were never in one place for more than five minutes."

"That was before," he shrugged his shoulders. "The situation is different now."

I eased my head back and frowned.

"What do you mean, that was before?" I asked. "Before what?"

He gulped, his eyes darting away from mine. It took a few seconds for the realisation to hit me.

"Before all of that shit at Maîtrise," I fathomed. He didn't confirm or deny. But he didn't need to. "You don't want to leave me here, on my own, because you don't think I can handle it."

"Ana –"

He exhaled a long sigh, closing his eyes for a moment.

"That's the only reason you won't go, isn't it?" I persisted. "You don't think I can cope being on my own."

"I didn't say that," he groaned. "It's just…"

"I'm doing better. You literally just said so yourself."

"And I meant it, but I…" he let his words trail off, his mind quickly re-evaluating what he should say next. "I don't want to be stuck on the other side of the fucking country if you need me. I should be here."

"In case I lose it again and have another panic attack?"

"In case you need me," he said firmly.

"I want you to go to New York," I blurted.

I sat up straight, my shoulders reeling back, my entire body tightening.

"You have made a commitment and you are going to stick to it. Just as I am going to stick to mine. When I'm done, I will -"

"No, it's not happening. I –"

"Will you shut up and listen to me for a second?" I huffed. I lifted onto my knees and edged closer to him, before sitting back on my feet. I picked up both of his hands in mine, linking our fingers together. "I was about to say, when I'm done with work on Thursday I will come and join you in New York."

His eyes narrowed at my suggestion.

"I don't want you to have to work your schedule around me," I said. "I don't want to be an obstacle or a burden to you. I've never wanted that."

"You're not a burden," he shook his head.

"You're treating me like a grenade," I sighed. "You're acting like if you leave me for more than a few hours at a time, I'm going to explode. But I'm not. I won't fall apart just because you're not here with me."

"It's not a risk I'm willing to take," he muttered. "It's too much, too soon. You're feeling better now, but what if you have a set back? It's a five hour flight, for god's sake."

"Then I'll be forced to deal with it myself," I shrugged. "I have to stand on my own two feet sometime, haven't I?"

"That's not the point."

"I appreciate the fact you want to be there for me, you know I do, but it's not healthy or fair for you to sacrifice your work for me," I continued. "Your work is important to you, I knew that when we got together. I accept that I have to share you with other people and it's okay. Go to New York and do what you need to do."

"Ana, I –"

"It'll only be for twenty-four hours," I reasoned. "Us being apart. If I fly out on Thursday evening, it means we'll only be apart for the one night. I'm sure even we can handle that!"

I made light of the matter, but his expression didn't change. He wasn't convinced.

"I know I can handle it," I said confidently.

And, weirdly, I felt confident.

A month ago, the idea of Christian having to leave Seattle would have struck fear deep inside me.

But I don't feel that now, as I'm contemplating the real possibility of him jetting out of town without me.

I'll miss him, of course I will, but I'm not scared of being left alone anymore. I'm not scared of the thoughts inside my own head. I haven't felt that crushing, all encumbering anxiety for a little while, each day I spend panic-free a milestone in itself.

I meant what I had told him – I don't want to be a burden to him or an obstacle he constantly needs to work around. But there was another reason I wanted him to go to New York: I want to prove to myself that I am capable of being emotionally independent again.

I love that Christian is always willing to fight my corner and shield me from whatever darkness clouds me, but I can't depend on him at every turn.

Rhian had talked to me about dependency in one of our sessions. For a while now I have worried about the strain I might be putting on Christian, but she reminded me that it isn't necessarily a bad thing to rely on people. It is perfectly normal to turn to others for support, especially when we're not feeling right in ourselves or the situation is particularly overwhelming. It can be a good thing. Great, even. But there is a fine line between what is healthy and what isn't.

If you continually depend on something for reassurance or an outlet, you risk forming an obsession. Obsession, as Rhian explained, breeds addiction if it's not managed and kept in check. For some people it's alcohol, drugs, sex. For others, it can be a person.

I'm not prepared to risk my relationship with Christian at any cost. I want him to help me stand up if I fall over, offer me a hand, not rush in and set me right again. I have to do the work, not him.

"I will be fine," I assured him. "It's not as if I'll be entirely on my own. I'll have Jaz and Sawyer and Mrs Jones on hand, if I need anything."

He pressed his lips together and I could practically see the thoughts pushing through his mind. _But what if you need me?_

I lurched forward and settled my lips onto his, my kiss soft and gentle. I stroked his cheek with my palm.

"I know I can do this," I whispered. "I just need you to trust me."

"I do trust you," he muttered, rubbing the tip of his nose against mine. "It doesn't mean I can't worry about you, though."

"You can worry," I nodded. "You'll just worry about me from New York, instead of here."

I felt the corners of his mouth hitch up, a small smile creeping over him.

"Besides," I hummed, changing tactic. "I think I'll enjoy having the bed to myself for the night. I can starfish 'til my heart's content."

"You do that whether I'm next to you or not," he snorted. "You fidget constantly. It's like laying next to an octopus some nights."

"Am I really that bad?" I giggled.

"Why do you think I insist on spooning you?" he quipped. "You can't wriggle around so much if I'm holding you."

I knew that wasn't the only reason he preferred to spoon me while we sleep…

"You talk in your sleep too," he added.

"Ray said I used to talk in my sleep when I was a kid," I nodded. "I used to talk about teddy bear tea parties, apparently."

"Well, your late-night ramblings are a little more sordid these days," he hummed. "Some of the things you say… It's enough to make me blush."

"You're kidding!" I gasped, snapping my head back in surprise.

"I'm deadly serious," he shook his head. "It's funny. I always go to bed with a smile on my face when you're muttering quietly to yourself."

Christian drew me into his chest again and hugged me tight. The way he held me spoke volumes. He didn't want to leave me, not even for one night. It would be too much of a wrench for him, but it is too huge of a milestone to pass up. For the both of us.

Because I think we both know that we need to test the strength of our relationship. We are strong when we're together, but can we cope with a separation? Even as small as this?

Can I prove to everyone that I am healing and that it's me who is doing the work, not Christian?

We haven't been apart since we officially became an item. We have been in each other's pockets since day one.

"I can do this," I whispered into his ear. His hold tightened, his face burying into my neck.

"I know," he murmured. "But I don't want to be away from you."

"Absence makes the heart grow fonder."

"You already have my heart," he sighed. "You own it. You carry it with you wherever you go."

"And you have mine," I hummed. "So be careful with it when you go to New York."

"Ana…"

"I will fly out on Thursday and we will spend the entire weekend together," I told him.

It wasn't a suggestion anymore. I had made up my mind. He was going, even if I had to put him on the plane myself.

I leaned my head back and smiled at him, my hands cupping his troubled face.

"Now, what happened to us celebrating my good news?" I shrugged. "Where is that champagne you brought home with you?"

"Chilling in the kitchen," he muttered. His throat bobbed and he shook his head, pushing back his apprehensions. He kissed me hard on the mouth and then shifted off the couch, rising to his feet. "I'll grab us some glasses."

"When you're back we can talk about that thing you wanted to run by me," I called to him as he made his way to the door.

He glanced back over his shoulder.

He paused for a moment and then shook his head.

"It can wait," he said. "Now isn't the time for all of that. We need to celebrate your hard work, like I promised."

I was about to question him further but he ducked out of the room, disappearing before I could get out another word.


	29. Chapter Twenty Eight

**Hello Lovelies,**

 **I hope you're having a good weekend so far.**

 **As always, thank you for reading and continuing with this story. It's a relief to know some of you love this version as much as I do.**

 **Much Love,**

 **Chelsea xx**

* * *

 **Paula White** \- Thank you! I'm glad you liked it. I hope you enjoy this chapter too. Much Love x

 **DoloresDeeHowe** \- Thank you! I love it when Ana takes control of the situation and puts her foot down! I hope you enjoy this chapter. Much Love x

 **Reds77** \- Thank you! I think the meeting with the boy in New York will prove very useful and insightful to Christian... As for the author, don't worry. Nothing sinister on the horizon there! I hope you like this chapter. Much Love x

 **SuzB** \- Thank you! I'm sure he'll tell her soon. He's just waiting for the right moment. I hope you like this chapter! Much Love x

* * *

Christian and I arrived home at 5:30pm on Wednesday evening, the air circling between us awkward and tense. He had maintained a hard grip of my hand, refusing to let go from the second he met me outside SIP. His fingers twitched against mine, alerting me to just how uncomfortable he was feeling.

It had taken a lot of promises and reassuring to even get him to agree to go to New York. Even now, two hours away from his flight due to take off, I was concerned he would pull the plug altogether and cancel his trip. Every waking moment since he was told about his upcoming meeting I have assured him that I will be okay, that I'm not nervous or apprehensive of being left alone.

And it was the truth. I could feel it in my gut.

My only concern would be waiting to find out when his plane lands, to be sure he is back on solid ground.

"You need to lighten up," I muttered, wriggling my fingers under his to force him to look at me. "You need to stop worrying."

He fired a quick glance at me and shook his head, rolling his eyes and tutting to himself. He stepped out of the elevator and pulled me behind him, giving my hand a tight squeeze.

Taylor stepped around us and began making his way to the kitchen. Moments before the elevator came to a halt, he mentioned that he needed to make a call to his daughter's mother. In truth, he was probably looking to grab five minutes alone, away from Christian and his brewing frustration.

I pitied anyone who encounters Christian over the next twenty-four hours. If anyone so much as looks at him in the wrong way, I fear he might rip them a new one.

He tugged my hand as he began charging towards the bedroom, my feet sliding across the floor to keep up with him and his long strides. As he pushed open the door, we were confronted by Mrs Jones.

"Oh good, you're back… I have just finished packing your suitcase," she said to Christian, offering us both a wide grin. She was pulling a black, hard shell suitcase behind her, barely breaking a sweat despite the fact I knew it weighed a ton even when it was empty. "Your cabin bag is already in the car. I'll ask Jason to take your suitcase down in a minute."

"Thanks," he huffed back at her. "I think he's gone back to your apartment."

Mrs Jones nodded and shuffled around us, ignoring his mood, exiting the room with his case. She closed the door behind her, giving us a moment of privacy.

Once we were alone, Christian finally dropped my hand and crossed over to the balcony doors. He rattled the handle, checking the lock.

"Do not open this while I'm away," he ordered, his voice deep and harsh.

He snapped his head to me and fixed me with a hard stare. I instinctively crossed my arms and tilted my head to the side, narrowing my gaze at him.

"Who the hell is going to get in through there? Spiderman?"

His jaw twitched.

He sucked in a sharp breath and threw his head back, sighing to himself.

"Christian, come here –"

I opened my arms and waited for him to bring his head down again.

He stared at me for a second before picking up his feet and dragging himself to me. He collided with my chest, his arms neatly wrapping around my back, his hands firmly pressed into the base of my spine.

"I need to know you'll be safe," he grumbled. He dropped his chin onto the top of my head. "I'm sorry for snapping at you."

"You're forgiven," I mumbled on a smile. "But I will be perfectly fine. I feel safe here. I _am_ safe here."

His hands crept up my back until they came to the nape of my neck. His fingers worked into the muscles there for a minute, before he gently coaxed my head back. His thumbs pinned me in place, my jaw tilted up to him, his eyes penetrating deep into mine.

"It's hard enough being away from you during the day," he exhaled. "But having to go the whole night will be torture."

"You'll survive," I smirked. "Just trust me. I'll be fine and before you know it, we'll be together again. Use the downtime to prepare yourself for all of the touristy shit I'm gonna make you do!"

I had already made up a list of everywhere I wanted to see, hoping we can cram in as much as possible into just a few days. Top of my list was a visit to the Empire State Building.

"I can't wait to do the touristy shit with you." He finally cracked a smile, his face softening. I lifted up onto my toes and brought my lips to his, my kiss exciting a moan from deep within his chest. "God, I'm going to miss you…"

He lengthened our kiss, sucking hard at my mouth. His tongue stroked mine into an intricate dance that only we knew the moves to.

"The jet will be ready and waiting for you," he muttered. "I'll make sure everything is prepared for whenever you finish work tomorrow. All you'll need to do is turn up with your bags and passport."

"Are you sure you want me to take the jet?" I asked, staring up at him. "You know I'm happy to fly commercial."

He shook his head, dismissing the idea without hesitation.

Christian was adamant that he didn't want me to leave Seattle on a commercial flight. If I was flying without him beside me, he wanted to be sure I was comfortable and, more importantly, safe.

Not that a private jet is any safer than a jumbo jet… But if it gives him some kind of relief, I am happy to go along with his request.

He will be flying first-class with Taylor and Kate tonight. Tomorrow, as soon as I've finished work for the week, I will be taking to the air with Jaz and Sawyer.

"I'll feel more relaxed if I know you're on my plane," he assured me. "Knowing you're on a plane that has been thoroughly checked over, and surrounded by my team who will take care of you."

He brought his head down and smoothed his lips over mine. His kiss was slow at first but quickly picked up pace, fast becoming frantic. Striding forward, he pushed me towards the bed until the back of my knees brushed the edge of the mattress.

"Christian!" I squeaked, a slight giggle in my voice. My hands flew up to his chest to push him away. "What are you doing?"

"If you need to ask me that question, something is seriously wrong with you," he quipped. He thrusted his hips forward, forcing me to feel the ache swelling in his pants. "I thought it was quite obvious…"

"We don't have time for this," I protested.

"I'm going to be separated from you for twenty-four hours," he grunted. He shook his head. "That's twenty-four hours without touching you… without tasting you… and now you want to add even more time onto that?"

I gulped.

"No…"

"Shut up then."

"But you have to leave soon -"

"I'll be quick."

His hands dropped to the hem of my dress and yanked it up to my waist. He stroked his fingers along the outside of my panties before snatching them from my body and tossing them onto the floor.

"Hey!"

"In order for this to work, you have to be naked," he smirked, his lips curling against my own.

"I liked those."

"They were getting in my way."

I let out a groan as he trailed his fingers long my seam, my head lolling backwards as those familiar ripples of pleasure started to make their way through me.

"Tell me to stop and I will," he breathed into my ear, his tongue lapping at my lobe. "Tell me you don't want me to touch you… I dare you, baby."

It was impossible and he knew it.

I fell backwards onto the bed and pulled him down on top of me. There was a triumphant look in his eye as he pressed his full weight onto me, grinding his hips into mine.

"You really are a nympho," I huffed.

"Only for you…"

* * *

Christian messaged me as soon as he got on the plane, promising to text again when he touches down in New York.

The apartment felt noticeably quieter and stilted when he left, but the silence that enveloped me was of the soothing and peaceful kind. I had never spent much time on my own in Escala, my time here shrouded entirely with Christian. But tonight I relished the opportunity to be alone in my home, being able to go from room to room and take stock of all that was now mine.

When I had signed the deeds to the apartment, I didn't really think about what it meant. I only signed it when I did to piss Gia off, but now it brings me comfort to know that I own half of this place. I have safety and security, the two things I have craved for such a long time.

Christian really does know what is best for me.

With thoughts of the hag that is Gia Matteo, I decided now was as good a time as any to take charge of the renovations. Christian has already given me total control, just as long as I share my plans with him and agree to avoid anything on his 'FUCK NO' list – namely anything Mia would love.

I took a notebook and pen and went around the apartment, sketching some ideas. There wasn't much scribbled down by the time I had finished, but I had made significantly more progress than Gia had. The bitch hadn't even started pulling together any swatches for us. She was far too busy trying to worm her way back into Elliot's bed…

A little after 8:30pm I took a shower and changed into my pyjamas. When I was done, I took myself off to the kitchen for some dinner. I had told Mrs Jones to take the night off, assuring her that I could rustle something up myself. Only, as I stood in the kitchen now, I wasn't exactly sure of what I wanted to eat. There were a number of pre-prepared meals in the refrigerator to choose from, but nothing jumped out at me.

I reached for one of the tubs but promptly slid it back onto the shelf when I heard my phone ringing. I rushed across the kitchen to pick it up from the breakfast bar, answering without checking the caller ID first.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Ana -" a carefree, boyish voice greeted me.

"Elliot?"

I pulled my phone down and saw his name on the centre of the screen.

"Hey," I sighed, leaning back into the counter. "Sorry, I wasn't expecting you to call."

"Because I'm a man of few words, yeah?" he snorted and brought a smile to my lips. "Did you think I was Christian?"

"Wishful thinking," I shrugged. "I know his flight won't land for several hours."

"But you wanna know he's okay?"

"Something like that," I mumbled.

"Is the separation killing you yet?"

"No," I replied, shaking my head to myself. "I'm actually doing okay."

"Jeez," he whistled. "Don't let Christian know that, he'll think you don't care about him!"

"He knows how I feel about him," I chuckled. "I must tell him a hundred times a day that I love him."

"You know, you two make me feel nauseous sometimes with all that lovey dovey crap."

"Sure…" I hummed. "So you didn't send Kate a huge bouquet of flowers, buy her a bottle of her favourite and very expensive perfume, or offer to send her on an all-inclusive spa weekend?"

He was quiet for a moment and then cleared his throat.

"Well," he gulped. "I've gotta keep her sweet, haven't I?"

I knew he was playing down his feelings for Kate. He was completely besotted with her.

"Did Christian ask you to call me?"

"No," he replied.

I believed him.

"Okay…" I drummed my fingers against the countertop. "Did you call me because you're missing Kate?"

"Can't I just randomly call my brother's girlfriend to check how she is? Knowing she's home alone and potentially vulnerable?"

I paused for a second.

"Elliot?"

"Yeah?"

"You know this place is built like Alcatraz," I said. "Christian amped up the security a few months back. No one is getting in or out of this place undetected."

"Um…"

"You're missing Kate," I concluded with a smile. "You're feeling lonely, aren't you?"

"Lonely and bored out of my mind," he huffed into my ear. "Can I come over and hang out with you?"

"Only on one condition."

"What?"

"Bring some takeout with you."

"Pizza or Chinese?"

"You choose," I shrugged. "Text me when you're on your way over. I'll let you in."

"Will do. See you soon, sis."

* * *

Elliot arrived with two bags full of Chinese food, enough to feed six people. I hesitated as he unloaded the containers onto the dining table, the idea of any food going to waste unnerving me.

But then I remembered this was Elliot Grey. He practically inhales food. He should be the size of a house, considering how much he can pack away.

"We can eat this in the television room," I suggested as Elliot pulled out a chair. "We can watch a movie or something?"

"Oh hell no!" he shook his head. His blonde hair flopped against his forehead, shimmying from side to side. "Christian won't let me eat in there again. Not after what happened the last time."

"What do you mean?"

"I'm a messy eater," he said. He picked up a napkin and stuffed it into the collar of his shirt. "A couple of years ago I stayed over here for a few weeks, while I was waiting to move into my apartment. I was in the TV room, eating some pasta… I dropped some sauce and got it all over the couch. He went ape-shit. I seriously thought he was gonna kill me."

"For spilling food on the couch?" I frowned.

"I completely wrecked two of the seat cushions," he nodded. "He had only just had it delivered. It was ridiculously expensive."

"Everything he buys is ridiculously expensive," I snorted.

"Well, after that incident I was banned from eating anywhere except for in the kitchen and at this table."

"On fear of death?"

"And on fear of getting my nose broken again!"

"Probably a good idea," I nodded. "But it's weird he was so bothered by a couple of stained cushions. It never bothers him when I'm dropping food or drinks. I've lost count of the number of times I've spilt tea in bed."

"The couch incident was pre-Ana," Elliot smiled. "He used to be a lot angrier before he met you. He was always in a permanent bad mood. It was like being around a shark, just waiting for it to look your way and snap at you. You've calmed him down a lot."

I cracked a smile as I revelled in his words.

I loved the fact I had brought peace and light into Christian's life. The change in him is profound and never-ending, new sides of his character being unleashed every day.

Elliot snorted under his breath.

"He's probably chilled out because he's getting laid on the reg now!"

I balled up my napkin and threw it at him, hitting him on the cheek. He broke into a loud laugh, a wide toothy grin flashing back at me.

He managed to compose himself after a few minutes, simmering down to just a light chuckle.

"So, are you really on your own?" he asked, glancing around the apartment as he piled some noodles into his mouth. I nodded my head. "No security?"

"Jaz and Sawyer are remotely keeping an eye on things. They'll be taking it in turns to come over and check on the place throughout the night," I explained. "And Mrs Jones is in her apartment, if I need anything. But for all intents and purposes, yes, I'm alone."

Elliot's brows lifted up into his hairline.

"How the hell did you convince Christian to do that?" he shook his head. "I thought he would have barricaded you in here, with a heavy covering every door and window."

"There were some compromises made," I smirked. "But he knows I'll be safe here, despite him constantly worrying about me… He takes my safety seriously, that's all."

"Not just yours," he hummed. "He's arranged a CPO for Kate, too."

"He has?" I frowned. "He didn't mention anything to me. Why has he done that?"

"We figured out how Kate's dad knew about the ball," he said. "He's been following her around for a couple of weeks."

"Are you serious?" I gasped. "Why didn't she tell me?"

"She didn't mention it to anyone because she thought she was imagining it," he shook his head. "But after he showed up at the ball, she realised she was right all along."

"Jesus…"

"The CPO is mostly to settle Kate's mind," he continued. "None of us think Kavanagh poses a serious threat. Taylor paid him a visit the other day. Apparently, Kate's dad was cowering behind his wife, the fucking coward… I don't think we'll be hearing from any of them again."

"I hope not," I nodded. "That's the last thing anyone needs, another nutjob gunning for us."

"He's just an old, fat bastard with a chip on his shoulder," Elliot shook his head, brushing it off. "He only came to the ball because he was off his face. There's no way in hell he'd have gone up against any of us sober. He's a pussy."

I agreed with him on that. Don Kavanagh likes to give off the impression that he's the big tough guy, but he only ever acts that way towards women. Against other men, he's a mouse.

"It's only a temporary measure," Elliot told me. "The CPO. It's just until Kate knows she's safe."

"Let's hope she can move on now. She's had to put up with a lot of crap from her family over the years."

"Like you said, we're her family now," he smiled. "It's time all of us moved on and let go of the past, once and for all."

I grinned at him. That was probably the most sense he's ever made in front of me.

"Oh –" he mouthed, holding up a hand. "Speaking of moving on!"

He dropped his fork and reached into his jeans pocket. He shuffled on his seat, until he was able to produce a folded-up envelope.

He passed it across the table.

"That's for you," he said before taking another large mouthful from his plate.

Confused, I tentatively opened the envelope and removed the scrap of paper from inside.

It was a cheque.

"What's this for?"

"It's the money from the sale of your VW," he mumbled around his food. "The money cleared in my account this morning. It was sold a couple of days ago."

I allowed my eyes to scan the cheque.

 _Holy shit._

I almost threw up at the numbers staring back at me.

Eighteen thousand dollars.

"Elliot…" I breathed, my eyes opening wide. "Are you sure you wrote this out properly?"

"Yup," he nodded. "It sold at auction for eighteen thousand."

He gawked at me for a moment, his brows starting to furrow.

"You seem shocked…?"

"Just a little!" I squeaked. "How the hell was it worth that much?"

I loved dear old Wanda but call a spade a spade, she was a rust bucket. Her best days were long since behind her.

Come to think of it, I think Ray only gave Mr Rodriguez $600 for her.

"It was a vintage car," Elliot shrugged. "They're always worth a packet, even if it did need some work doing to it."

"I didn't think we'd get that much money for it," I shook my head, my eyes fixed on those zeros.

"Could've got a lot more if I didn't have to do a whole new paint job to cover up the red paint," he sighed. "The original pastel blue could have got you at least twenty-five thousand."

A short silence developed between us.

"Why are you giving me this?" I quietly asked.

"It was your car…"

"No, I mean, why are you giving me all of the money," I corrected myself. "Why haven't you taken your cut?"

"Why would I take any money? It wasn't my car."

"To cover the cost of the repairs," I shook my head. "Or to cover the number of hours you invested in fixing her up?"

"Nah, I'm good," he shrugged.

"Elliot –"

"Look, I don't want any money," he said, cutting me off with a soft smile on his mouth. "I didn't fix the car up because I wanted to cash in from the sale. I just like fixing up old cars, it's more of a challenge than it is working on the newer models on the market… I saw it as a pet project, that's all."

"You won't be tempted to take even a small cut?" I offered. "You worked really hard on that car. I know it took up a lot of your free time."

"You can pester all you want," he grinned. "I'm not taking a single penny from you. Stick it in your bank account and do whatever you want with it. It's your money, no one else's."

I pursed my lips at his defiance.

I guess my savings account would appreciate the boost. For a long time it was running on empty. Until I found work at Maîtrise, I barely had two pennies to rub together.

I make a decent wage at SIP, but Christian covers all of our expenses… I have no need for money like this.

"You don't have to decide what to spend it on right this second," Elliot chuckled, sensing my brain overload. "It's not going anywhere. I'm sure you'll eventually figure out what to do with it."

I nodded my head and carefully tucked the cheque back into the envelope. I'll discuss it with Christian when I see him.

"Now, the money isn't going anywhere," Elliot hummed. "But this food is. You should take what you want now, before I demolish the lot."

"I used to think Christian was exaggerating," I shook my head. "But you really are a gannet, aren't you?"

"Healthy appetite," he grinned. "Put it this way, my little bro never has to worry about me not eating enough."

"I'm sure he appreciates that. One less person to nag!"

"You've only had a couple of months of it," he shook his head on a sigh. "Try growing up with him being so obsessed with food… _Jeez_. He was never that bad when we were kids, but he got worse over the years. Always asking how much we've eaten, when was our last meal, checking that we've cleared our plates. All because he was neglected when he was -"

His voice trailed off and his eyes slowly cast their way to me. He narrowed his gaze and began chewing on the inside of his cheek.

"It's okay, I already know," I confirmed, alleviating his doubts. "I know all about what happened before he was adopted."

"So, you know why he's got food issues?"

"I know why he's got all of his issues," I snorted. "He's told me all about his birth mother and her pimp."

"Thank god," he sighed, puffing out his cheeks. Relief swam through his wide eyes. "I thought I had put my foot in it for a second there. He hates it when people talk about his private business."

"I know," I smiled. "We live together. I do know the kind of man Christian is."

Elliot smirked. "I know you do," he said. "Just covering my ass, that's all. He has to be the one to tell you stuff. He has to be in control of everything."

"I don't think anyone can blame him for that, considering what he went through," I nodded.

His expression darkened as he slipped into his own thoughts for a moment. He pushed his fork around his plate.

"It always gets to me a little," he admitted in a whisper. "Thinking about what Christian went through before Mom and Dad adopted him."

"It's horrible," I agreed.

"I don't know how any parent can treat their kid like that," he shook his head. "I know for a fact that when I have kids, they will be cherished from the minute they're born. No one will ever lay a finger on them."

I smiled at the thought of Elliot being a dad. I could imagine him rolling around in dirt with his children, Kate laughing at them from a safe distance because god knows she hates mud…

"Family means everything to me," he added. "Well, to all of us Greys… We'd fight to the death for each other."

"I don't think I've ever met a family like yours before."

"Like ours," he corrected me with a wink. "You're one of us now, Ana, whether you like it or not. You're a Grey through and through."

A smile tripped across my lips. I liked the idea of being a Grey.

Maybe one day it'll be official...?


	30. Chapter Twenty Nine

**Hello Lovelies!**

 **I hope you're having a great weekend. As always, I really hope you enjoy this chapter.**

 **More coming soon!**

 **Much Love,**

 **Chelsea x**

* * *

 **DoloresDeeHowe** \- Thank you! I'm really glad you liked it. I hope you enjoy this chapter too! Much Love x

 **Paula White** \- Thank you! I hope you like this chapter too. Much Love x

 **Susan** \- Thank you! I'm really glad you enjoyed catching up. I hope you enjoy this chapter! Much Love x

 **Reds77** \- Thank you! I love seeing Ana and Elliot hanging out. I think they make a great brother/sister combo! Elliot does know about Elena and Christian. Elena actually made a move on Elliot before she turned her attention to Christian. Elliot warned Elena to leave Christian alone and he sadly believed her when she said she wouldn't touch Christian. (Yet again, she manipulated people with her lies! The evil monster!) I hope you enjoy chapter! Much Love x

 **SuzB** \- Thank you! I really hope you enjoy the NYC chapters. Much Love x

* * *

I exited the meeting room and quickly spun around, extending my hand to the woman practically skipping out of the door behind me. The grin on her lips was high, wide, and completely infectious.

I wasn't sure which of us were most excited – the long-time aspiring novelist who was finally getting the chance to chase her dreams, or the editor who had just signed her first author up to SIP.

Hell, I was fizzing with excitement, like a bottle of champagne that's been shaken and now ready to explode. It took all my energy to keep a lid on it, wanting to maintain a professional appearance, but my insides were screaming.

I had done it. This was all on me. I had chosen her manuscript, I had given her the contract, I had taken the lead and ran with it.

I was so proud of myself and what this milestone signified. Hopefully, it would be the first in a very long career here at SIP. I loved this place with all my heart.

"I'll be in touch soon," I said, shaking her hand. "I've got a few suggestions and comments already, but I'll send everything over once I've finished reading through the whole document."

"Fabulous!" The red-haired woman bounced on the spot. "I'll keep thinking about a name, too… for both me and the book!"

Out of our meeting one thing had become abundantly clear – Mrs Jenkins wanted to use a pseudonym. She wanted to create a whole new identity for herself, to maintain a degree of privacy considering the steamy nature of her manuscript. I couldn't blame her. Pen names were popular across all genres, particularly with female writers. Even more so when every chapter contained something on the saucy side.

"There's plenty of time to figure it all out," I assured her. "But I can't wait to work on this with you."

"Me too," she breathed. She shook her head, her dark eyes swimming with relief. "You have no idea how long I have been praying this day would come. And I'm even happier that you're the one I'm gonna be working with. I literally just finished reading _A Breath of Fresh Eyre_ when I got your email!"

"Really?"

"I had to double-check the acknowledgements," she nodded with a laugh. "I saw you had been mentioned as the editor, so I was in complete shock when you contacted me. That really was a phenomenal book. I loved it."

My cheeks pinched together, a blush passing over my skin.

"I'll be sure to pass on your comments to Jessica," I smiled. "And I hope you get a chance to enjoy the rest of your time here in Seattle."

"I will, don't you worry," she grinned. "I'm sorry for pushing you to meet me so quickly, but I'll use any ol' excuse to hop on a plane to come visit my babies."

"Your babies?"

"My kids," she clarified. "They're not technically babies anymore. They're both in their 30s… My daughter lives here and my son is in Vancouver, but he's coming down to see me tomorrow."

"That sounds lovely," I nodded.

I understood her urgency now. Ray will take any chance he can get to come up to Seattle to see me.

"Do you have any kids?"

"Me? No, I don't," I shook my head. "Not yet anyway… One day, maybe."

Mrs Jenkins thanked me again before saying her goodbyes and heading back out through the lobby.

There was a definite spring in her step now, a buoyancy in her that hadn't been there at the start of our meeting. I knew a large part of her cheeriness must be down to the prospect of reuniting with her children, but it gave me immense joy to know I had added to that feeling. To know I was helping her dreams come true. I could tell she wanted this more than anything else in the world. She had spent her life writing stories, only to be knocked back time and time again.

I went back upstairs, making a beeline for my office. Most of the desks on the floor were empty, just a few of my colleagues choosing to come in today. A number had chosen to make the most of the long weekend, using up some vacation time to secure another day away from work.

"How did it go?" Mark called, bolting out of his office with expectation in his dark gaze. He was eager for an update. "Well, I hope?"

"Great," I nodded. I crossed over to his door and leaned against the frame. "She signed the contract. I think she's on Cloud Nine right about now."

"That's amazing," he grinned. He reached across and gave my elbow a squeeze. "Well done."

"It feels really good," I admitted with a cheek-aching grin of my own. "Do you still get a buzz from signing up a new author?"

"Every time," he smirked. Dimples formed in his cherubic cheeks. "It never goes away. It's pretty much on par with landing a bestseller… Not that many of us know what that feels like!"

I pressed my lips together and rocked on the spot. I did and it was honestly one of the best feelings I've ever experienced. I craved more of the same. I understand it now, why Christian gets such a thrill from landing a new deal. It's the buzz of success that drives him.

"So, what are you up to now?" Mark asked.

"Um, I think I might continue adding my comments to –"

"Nah…" he shook his head, narrowing his eyes at me. "You see, a little birdie told me Christian is currently in New York."

"How did you know that?" I frowned.

"Google," he chuckled, completely unashamed. "I've got an alert on him because yes, I am that kind of stalker… A pap got a photo of him getting off the plane, I saw it online earlier."

"Oh, right," I sighed, shaking my head. "I don't bother with any of that. I haven't Googled Christian since well before we got together."

"There's a fair bit about you online," he explained. I already knew this, of course, was already aware that my face is circulating on various gossip columns and blogs. "All positive stuff, I can assure you."

I tried to ignore any public interest into mine and Christian's relationship. I shut it out and focused on what's important, which isn't constantly scanning the streets for an idiot with a camera.

"So, how come lover-boy is over on the East side?"

"Business," I shrugged. "I'm heading out there tonight. He's got the jet on standby."

His brow arched. "A private jet?"

I nodded at him, finding myself grinning at the shock etching through his face.

"He has a private jet?"

"And a helicopter," I hummed. "And a yacht."

"Jesus…" Mark puffed out his cheeks. "And he's slumming it on a commercial flight so you can fly on his jet?"

"Yup," I nodded again. "Christian's something else, isn't he?"

Mark fell back against the doorframe, clutching his chest, feigning pain near his heart.

"You really are dating Mr Perfect, aren't you?" he sighed. He jerked his head up. "But, wait, if he's in New York, why are you hanging around here?"

"Erm," I frowned. Was this a trick question? "I have work to do…"

"No, silly, I mean why are you waiting until tonight to go join him?" he huffed. "Go and get on that bloody plane!"

"I can't just leave," I shook my head. I glanced at the watch on his wrist. "Mark, it's not even 10am. I've only been here for an hour."

"You don't have any more meetings scheduled for today, do you?"

"No –"

"Then I am telling you to go," he ordered. He folded his arms, trying to appear defiant and fierce. It made me chuckle. Mark couldn't be defiant or fierce to save his life. "I'm your boss and what I say goes."

"You're telling me to leave work early?"

"I have to live vicariously through you because God screwed me over and made your boyfriend straight," he grinned back at me. "Seriously, Ana, do this for me. Get on that plane, reunite with your drop-dead gorgeous guy, and give him the biggest smooch in the world."

"You're sure about this?" I checked.

I couldn't believe it.

What kind of boss tells you to leave work after just an hour?

"I'm more than sure!" Mark nodded enthusiastically. "If you don't leave in the next ten minutes, I'll personally kick you out of the building."

I gave him a salute and quickly turned on the spot, racing back into my office to grab my things.

* * *

Although I was excited at the thought of being reunited with Christian sooner than planned, the prospect of having to go home and pack brought my mood down a few notches. Packing had never been my forte. Kate had always helped me on that front any time I needed an overnight bag pulled together. She thrived on that kind of thing. I did not.

I should have packed last night but Elliot didn't leave until almost eleven, and by that time I was too tired to do anything other than crawl into bed and fall asleep. I was unconscious within seconds of my head hitting the pillow.

Granted, I could have asked Mrs Jones to help but I didn't want to distract her from her other jobs. She worked hard enough as it was, I didn't want to add to her mountain of tasks.

Setting my purse down on the sideboard, I turned to look back at Sawyer. He had followed me upstairs, his bags already in the back of the SUV. Jaz left us at SIP to go home and collect her things, agreeing to meet us at the airport.

"Can you call ahead and rearrange the flight?" I asked Sawyer. I shrugged my shoulders at him. "I don't know who I'm supposed to call about that sort of thing."

"Of course," he smiled and gave me a curt nod. "I'll sort everything. What time do you think you'll be ready to go?"

"Um, about an hour," I said.

"No problem, ma'am."

He stepped away, taking a few strides before turning his back on me. I watched as he sped off in the direction of Christian's office to make the necessary calls.

Jolting myself into action, I headed into the bedroom and kicked off my shoes. I came to an abrupt stop at the edge of the bed, a smile working its way across my mouth as I saw my suitcase laid out in front of me. The navy case was open, a number of items already neatly stacked inside. I checked them over, noting that all of my toiletries had been brought together and separated into different bags. Brand new bottles of my favourite shampoo and conditioner, all of the skincare products I use on a daily basis, even my makeup had been gathered up from my dressing table.

All I needed to do was pack my clothes.

 _Mrs Jones really is an angel sent straight from heaven…_

I went through the closet and selected a handful of outfits from the rails, picking out mostly casual choices but adding in a few smarter pieces in case I need to amp it up for the evenings. I didn't know what Christian had planned for us outside of the list of places I was desperate to see, so I wanted to be prepared for any eventuality.

I finished packing much quicker than I anticipated, courtesy of Mrs Jones's ethereal intervention. I heaved the case down from the bed and wheeled it out towards the elevators. I didn't see Sawyer anywhere but hearing some scuttling in the kitchen, I went off to investigate.

I was pleased to find Mrs Jones instead. She was lost in her thoughts, humming to herself as she cleaned the countertops.

"Oh, hello, Ana," she sang sweetly, grinning at me from the other side of the breakfast bar. She glanced up at the clock on the wall and her brows slowly pulled together in the middle of her forehead. "I wasn't expecting you home this early. Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, everything's fine," I nodded. "I was able to get away from the office, so we're going to take an earlier flight to New York."

"That's a relief," she sighed, blowing off the possibility of something being wrong. "I'm sure Christian will love that. I bet he's missing you like crazy, the poor boy."

"Thank you for packing my toiletries," I smiled. "You didn't need to do that."

"I figured you would appreciate the helping hand," she winked. I nodded my head on a giggle. "It was no problem… Are you looking forward to your weekend away?"

"Definitely," I exhaled. "Have you ever been to the Big Apple?"

"Many times," she confirmed. "I used to accompany Christian there on occasion. He's always preferred continuity so I used to fly out there with him, to make sure everything was ship-shape in his apartment."

"When was the last time Christian went to New York?"

"Months ago," she guessed. She lightly shrugged her shoulders. "It's been a very long time. He used to go there almost every weekend at one stage, until he appointed a team to cover the East coast division of GEH. Why do you ask?"

"Just curious," I brushed it off. "He hasn't travelled much since we got together."

 _Hasn't travelled at all_ , my subconscious snorted at me. _Not on his own anyway. Not if you can count the pitstop he recently made to Vancouver BC, to visit that widow and her baby._

"He has a reason to stay here now," Mrs Jones said coyly, fixing me with a soft stare. "It was about time he stopped running around like a headless chicken. I'm glad he's finally slowed down."

"Me too," I hummed.

She continued wiping down the counter, spritzing her homemade spray across the marbled surface.

"Oh –" I blurted, holding up my hand. "I almost forgot. Can you write down the address to Christian's place for me? He didn't tell me it before he left."

"Of course," she nodded and stepped aside, wiping her hands on her apron. "I'm sure Sawyer will have it, though."

She circled the counter and pulled open a drawer, picking out a notepad and pen. She leaned forward and quickly scribbled down the address before offering it over to me.

I didn't know much about New York City but I knew that 53 W 53rd Street was the heart of midtown Manhattan. SIP uses a distributor on a nearby street and my quick Google Maps search had told me the area was both impressive and expensive. Ridiculously expensive.

I shouldn't be at all surprised to learn Christian has a home there, in such an affluent quarter of the city. Of course he would base himself front and centre, only the very best for the infamous Mr Grey.

"Everything and anything you could possibly need is within walking distance of the building," Mrs Jones confirmed my thoughts. "Convenience used to mean everything to Christian."

"But it doesn't anymore?"

She didn't reply. She simply gave me a soft smile and then resumed her task of making the countertop sparkle.

* * *

I settled into one of the seats near the front of the cabin, choosing to sit next to the window. My body was instantly cradled by white leather, my shoes sinking into a plush black rug. Christian's monochromatic tastes had even spread to his jet, it seemed.

The plane was spacious and well-stocked, every seat ready to be turned into a bed if any of us need a nap, and there was a reasonably sized TV in front of me – a range of box sets and movies at my disposal. I had been given a short tour when I climbed onboard, the steward keen to highlight the many luxuries on hand. At the back of the plane there was a study, two bedrooms and a bathroom bigger than the one at my old apartment.

Buckling up, I waited for the plane to be fuelled and the pilot to signal that we could finally get on our way. All being well, we should be in the air within 20 minutes.

My stomach hadn't stopped rolling since I woke up, pure excitement coursing through my entire body. I was looking forward to seeing my man again.

I took the time to check my phone, instinctively opening up my texts to Christian. He hadn't messaged me since first thing, when I had wished him a good morning. I fired off a new message to explain the change of plan. I didn't know whether Sawyer had called ahead and told Taylor yet.

His reply came instantly.

 **I already know. But that's perfect! Best news I've had all day. I guess buttering Mark up with the rose worked then? ;) C x**

 _It may have helped sway him a little… x_

 **When are you due to take off? C x**

 _Not long. Just fuelling now x_

There was a pause before I received his next message.

 **So that means you should land approx. 7pm ET? C x**

 _I think so x_

 **Shit. I won't be able to meet you at the airport. My meeting got delayed until this evening. It's now at 6:30. C x**

 _Oh right. Never mind x_

 **I'm sorry. C x**

 _Don't be! I've got Jaz and Sawyer with me x_

 **Sure? C x**

 _Absolutely. Don't you dare even think about cancelling your meeting just so you can fetch me from the airport! x_

 **I don't deserve you. C x**

I smiled at my phone.

 _I can't wait to see you x_

 **Baby, I'm counting down the minutes until I have you in my arms again. C x**

Before I could tap out my reply, my phone buzzed again.

 **But, for the love of god, turn off your fucking phone. I don't want you bringing down my jet!**

 _We haven't even taken off! x_

 **Doesn't matter. I have precious cargo on that plane and I want her to arrive in NYC in one piece.**

 _Turning it off now, I promise x_

 **Thank you. Have a safe flight. I love you, baby. C xxx**

* * *

Within seconds of disembarking the plane, I could feel the frenetic energy of the city creeping through my veins. It was a distinctive throb, a pulse that was beating furiously alongside my own. It was the same buzz I had experienced when we first landed in London but this time, instead of only being full of excitement for the chance to explore a new place, I was overtaken by the desperate need to see the love of my life. Our separation hadn't caused me any upset, but I was craving him now. I wanted his lips on mine, his arms tightly wrapped around my body.

There was an Audi waiting for us, the driver quickly coming over to take care of our bags. He began loading them into the trunk, silently going about his task while I climbed into the back of the car. Jaz slid in alongside me, Sawyer taking a seat up front.

The driver slipped in behind the wheel and switched on the engine. He turned to face Sawyer, awaiting instruction.

"We're heading here –" I said, offering over the scrap of paper Mrs Jones had given me. The driver accepted it and read the address, giving me a curt nod. "Thank you."

Sawyer snapped his head to me, his lips parting in protest.

"Sorry for beating you to it," I shrugged. "I'm just eager to get to the apartment."

"Ma'am –"

"I want to see Christian as soon as his meeting is over," I barked, a little harsher than I had intended. I let out a small sigh and shook my head. "I need to see him. As soon as possible. Which isn't going to happen if we're sat here all day, is it?"

He gulped, still staring at me.

"Please?" I begged. "Can we just go? I haven't seen him in what is feeling like forever. Don't make me wait any longer."

Sawyer watched me for a moment and then nodded his head, relenting on whatever had been troubling him. He swivelled to face the front again and waved the drive onwards, the car swiftly gliding away from the airport.

I stared out of my window and watched as we joined an endless stream of traffic. I gazed up at the mountainous buildings, the skyscrapers dwarfing everything in sight. The car suddenly felt like an ant in a vast jungle.

It was incredible.

I grinned as I scanned the others in the car. The driver's attention was fixed on the road, no doubt under strict instructions to drive with extra care now he was carrying _precious cargo_ …

Jaz had the same idea as me, her eyes focused outside the car and taking stock of the frenzy all around us. Sawyer, however, was busy with his phone, his thumbs crossing over his screen at record speed as he typed up a message.

* * *

When I tried to conjure up an idea of what Christian's apartment might look like, I imagined it would be eerily similar to Escala.

And I was right.

While stuck in traffic, I pulled out my phone and did a quick search of the penthouse's address. A number of results showed but it was the first one that really caught my eye. The link took me to Gia Matteo's website, a whole host of photographs showing the interior of the apartment.

I wondered briefly if Christian knew pictures of his home were plastered all over the internet. The thought didn't sit comfortably with me, yet another reason I'm glad Gia is no longer doing our renovations. I want our home to be ours and ours alone.

I wasn't at all shocked to learn Gia had designed the layout of his New York apartment. As I scrolled through the images, I couldn't help but acknowledge it looked sleek, clean and stale. The place looked empty, hardly any furniture dotted around, no paintings on the walls. No soft furnishings. It was sterile, even by Christian's standards. The penthouse boasted a 360-degree view of the city, but that was the only spectacular thing on display.

I scanned the page and was relieved to find no mention of Christian's name, but Gia did emphasise the apartment's 35 million-dollar price tag. She called it a 'magnificent condo, inspired by rich scenery and designed to suit a world-class bachelor in his prime.'

 _God, she really was a kiss ass towards Christian. What a creep!_

As the car finally drew to a stop outside a building, I gazed up and discovered it was entirely glass fronted and spiralled high into the clouds. It domineered over the other buildings surrounding it, a real mammoth of glass and steel.

Jaz remained in the car with the driver, sharing a quiet word with Sawyer before he and I climbed out and stepped inside the building. I walked with Sawyer through the gold and white lobby, heading straight for the elevators.

Sawyer punched a series of digits into the scanner on the wall, the elevator doors sealing shut and the container promptly jolting upwards. My insides churned as we ascended to the 76th floor.

There was a separate, diamond-shaped lobby outside the elevators as it opened onto Christian's floor, a single black door straight ahead. The ebony panels were edged with gold, a round knocker just below eye level.

Before Sawyer or I reached the door, it was quickly pulled open.

A small furrow twisted through my brows.

"Hey!"

Kate rushed forwards, her arms wide open and soon crushing their way around me. She gave me a hard squeeze and rocked me on the spot, her hands rubbing up and down my back.

"We didn't know you were coming here," she hummed.

"What?"

She peeled back and grinned down at me, her fingers spilling down my arms until my hands were in hers. She was wearing a simple black dress with nude heels, her hair pulled tightly into a bun. Very professional.

"We thought you were going straight to the hotel," she explained. She narrowed her eyes slightly, before shifting her attention to Sawyer. "Why didn't you take her to the hotel to get settled in?"

"Wait, I'm not following," I intervened, holding up my hand. "Why would I be going to a hotel? This is Christian's apartment… isn't it?"

Kate parted her lips to reply but was instantly silenced by the sound of footsteps racing towards us. She moved over as Christian rushed through the door, my heart leaping into my throat at the sight of him in his navy three-piece suit.

"God, I've missed you –"

He was on me in seconds, yanking me into his chest as his lips sought out mine. His kiss sent a shiver straight through my core.

Leaning his head back, he stared down at me, his wide eyes absorbing every inch of my face. Checking me over.

"I've really missed you," he whispered on a smirk. "You have no idea how glad I am to see you."

"What's all this talk about a hotel?" I asked, my frown deepening. "Don't you live here?"

"I own the place," he confirmed. "But we're not staying here. Who told you we were?"

I shrugged my shoulders and began chewing on my lip.

"I just assumed we would be," I mumbled, a touch of embarrassment sinking into my voice. "I knew you had a place here and I asked Mrs Jones for the address."

Christian turned his head towards Sawyer and fixed him with a scowl.

"You didn't think to tell her of the new plans? Or to let the driver carry out the very basic instruction I gave him?" he snapped. Sawyer shuffled his feet but didn't reply, which I think was probably the right thing to do considering the harshness of Christian's voice. "Well?"

"It's not his fault," I blurted. I pressed a hand to Christian's chest, trying to force his eyes back to mine. "I told the driver to bring us here."

Christian dragged his attention to me, his glare softening.

"You didn't tell me we weren't staying here," I added, shooting the accusation back to him. He relented in a second. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"It slipped my mind," he sighed. He stepped forward again and pulled me back into his arms, his hands firmly pressed into my upper back. "I'm sorry. I've had a lot on my mind, I should have explained the change of plan."

"How come we're not staying here?"

"I can explain and I will, but I can't right this second," he grunted. He leaned away and gave me an apologetic stare. "I'm in the middle of my meeting."

My brows shot up my forehead.

"You're having your meeting here?"

"We're not finished yet," he said.

"I didn't know," I shook my head. "Shit, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to interrupt you."

I didn't even think he would be here. I assumed his meeting was taking place elsewhere. In one of his offices, or maybe a restaurant.

"There's no harm done," he muttered, flashing me a quick smile. "But I really should get back."

"Of course," I said eagerly, my hands flying up and ready to push him back towards the door. "Get back to your meeting."

He smiled and brought his lips to mine, lightly feathering a kiss onto my mouth.

"Why don't you go to the hotel and unpack?" he suggested. He turned his head towards Kate. "You should go with Ana. Help her settle in."

Kate frowned at him.

"Um, don't you need me here?" she questioned. "To make sure things run smoothly?"

"No," he shook his head, dismissing her with a clipped voice. "We won't need you from here on."

She slowly nodded her head and backed down, and I caught a glimpse of what it must be like to see them at work. Boss and employee, the roles so easily slipped into regardless of where they are. If he says jump, her automatic response should be 'how high, sir?'

He held her stare for a moment and then shook his head, shaking off the harshness that had spread over him. A soft smile started to tweak at the corner of his mouth.

"I'm sure you two need some time together, that's all," he added. He let out another sigh. "You hardly ever see each other these days, do you?"

Kate and I both shook our heads.

Christian glanced down at me. He stroked his thumb across my cheek.

"Go spend some time together," he urged. "Have some girly time."

I arched my brow at him.

" _Girly time?_ "

"Whatever you get up to when I'm not around," he rolled his eyes. "I'm serious, Ana. Go and have some fun with Kate. I'll come join you when I'm done here."

"Okay," I agreed. I stepped forward and hugged him, enjoying another warm embrace. "How long do you think you'll be?"

"Shouldn't be too long," he hummed. "I have to wrap up this meeting and show the realtor around, then I'm all yours."

 _Realtor?_

He smoothed his lips over mine and kissed me sweetly, cutting off that train of thought. His hands ran up the lengths of my arms, until he was cupping my face.

"I promise I'll come join you as soon as I can," he smiled. "But, in the meantime, I want you to go and relax. Get into vacation mode. We've got three whole days of fun ahead of us, so you better settle in as soon as possible."

He gave me a wink and slowly eased me back towards the elevators. He waited as Sawyer, Kate and I stepped inside, staying rooted to the spot and grinning at me as the elevator doors slid shut and separated us once again.

I leaned into the railings, Kate slouching beside me. I looked across at her and found her eyes closed, her chest rising on a deep inhale.

"Tired?" I asked, nudging her arm with my elbow.

"Uh?" She snapped her head up. Her lips parted into a weak smile. "Yeah… It's been a long couple of days."

"How has he been?" I asked, sensing Christian was the cause of her tiredness.

"Christian?" she sighed. "Extra grumpy. Snapping at everyone and everything in his way. Just his usual nightmare self."

"Really?" I worried, ribbing my lip between my teeth.

"He's missed you," she said. "He's been clock-watching all day, waiting for you to get here."

That I could believe.

I guess a part of me already knew this separation would be harder on Christian than me, despite everything I've been through in recent months.

"How come his meeting got delayed?"

"The guy had a family emergency," she replied. "Nothing serious, but it meant things had to be pushed back by a few hours."

"Right…" I hummed to myself. "On a scale of 1 to 10, how important is this meeting I almost gate-crashed?"

She gave me a strained smile, her shoulders lifting up to her ears. My stomach sank into my shoes.

"Don't worry about it," she tried to settle me, shaking her head. "Christian said it's fine, and you know he wouldn't say that unless he meant it… Besides, I don't think they'll be much longer anyway. The realtor is due in about fifty minutes."

"Why has he asked a realtor to come over?"

"He's selling up," she answered quickly, so matter of fact.

At this rate, my brows will be permanently laced into my hairline. My eyes popped open wide.

"Since when?"

"He only made the appointment this morning," she explained, turning her body to face me properly. "When we landed last night, the original plan was for all of us to stay here. But when we arrived, he changed his mind. It was really weird."

"What do you mean?"

"He dropped his bags and did a little walk around the apartment, then he came back to the door and said we weren't staying," she shrugged. "He got straight on the phone and checked us into The Plaza."

"Is there something wrong with the apartment?"

"I doubt it, the place is fucking perfect!" she snorted. "I don't know why he changed his mind, but he was adamant that we couldn't stay here… I did overhear him talking to Taylor, though. He said something about the apartment being unsuitable and how he didn't want to be reminded of certain things."

Kate brushed it off, dismissing the comments instead of picking at them for clues.

But I chewed over them for a few seconds, trying to make sense of it.

I knew Christian used to come here all the time, before we met each other. Like Mrs Jones told me this morning, he used to spend almost every weekend here at one point.

 _Oh -_

He used to see his subs at the weekend…

I shot a glance to the elevator doors, staring at my reflection in the mirror.

He used to fly the subs out here with him.

He would probably spend his days catching up on East coast business, then spend his nights seeking out control with those women.

Is he trying to distance himself from his past or keep me away from it?

The latter didn't make sense to me, seeing as we live in Escala. The subs used to go there, I'm not oblivious to that. I know what he used to do with them and I accept it. It's his past. Neither of us can change that.

 _But we are redecorating Escala_ , I reminded myself. _He's making a point of erasing everything they ever came into contact with._

"The Plaza?" I repeated, deciding to drop all thoughts of Christian's subs. Kate grinned at me. "Not a bad choice, huh?"

"Only the best for Christian," she giggled. "Seriously, he's hooked us up with the best suites. I want to live there forever!"

Sawyer shifted in front me, his eyes checking me through the mirror. He looked uncomfortable and annoyed.

"Just ignore Christian," I told him, meeting his eye in the glass. I gave him a soft smile. "It was my mistake."

He slowly turned to face me, his lips contorting with a grimace.

"I was only informed of the change when we got off the plane," he quickly explained. "Taylor emailed me but I didn't receive it until we landed. I was going to tell you in the car."

"But I jumped the gun?"

"You said you wanted to see him," he nodded. "And I knew he'd be here. I figured if you got to see him quickly, before we go to the hotel, it might help the both of you. Taylor told me Mr Grey hasn't been in the best of moods since they left Seattle."

"That's the understatement of the century!" Kate chortled.

"Thank you," I told Sawyer. "I'm glad I've seen him. But I wish you had put your foot down, instead of letting me almost barge into his meeting. I don't want to mess up whatever deal he's trying to secure."

"You're kidding?" he snorted. "Ma'am, there is no way in hell I'm gonna piss you off by shooting you down. I don't want to get on your bad side."

"My bad side?" I narrowed my eyes at him.

"I saw the way you handled Ms Matteo at the ball," he said. "You tore her to shreds. It looked like she was going to burst into tears when she stormed out. You think I'm gonna risk you doing that to me?"

My lips split into a wide grin, a laugh pushing out of me.

"No way," Sawyer shook his head. "I'd rather face Mr Grey's wrath any day of the week. Him, I can handle. I don't have to work with him day in, day out."

"He pays your salary though," I reminded him.

"But you hired me back," he said. "You get to decide whether I stick around or not. He's given you total control over that. So, really, it's you I have to keep on side, not him. He can shout at me as much as he wants, my job is to do what I think is best for you."

He must be a brave or stupid man if he is happy to take on a Christian-style tongue lashing!

"I knew you wanted to see him, so…" he shrugged.

"You're on team Ana?" I chuckled.

"One hundred percent," he nodded, returning my laugh.

I relaxed into the railings, crossing my arms under my chest. It felt good to have a strong team of allies surrounding me.

Kate pulled out her cell phone and began scrolling through her camera roll, showing me some photos she had taken of her suite. It was exactly how I imagined a suite at The Plaza to look – expensive, luxurious and pristine.

"Yours is even better," she assured me. "And oh my god, the room service is out of this world. Christian's footing the bill, too. He said I can order whatever I want."

"You ordered pretty much everything on the menu, didn't you?" I guessed.

"Duh!" she laughed. "It's technically free food. I needed to sample a little of everything, just to be on the safe side. It'd be rude not to."

"You and Elliot really are made for each other," I shook my head.

Her grin stretched even higher at the mention of Elliot. Her cheeks started to burn bright red.

"He said he'd spent the evening with you last night," she hummed, her blush trickling down to her throat. "Christian was really pleased when he got that message from Elliot, saying what he had done."

"He was?"

"It helped lift his mood a little," she nodded. "But he did say he hoped to fuck Elliot ate at the table."

"He did," I giggled. "He really is a messy eater, isn't he?"

"The worst," Kate smirked. "But he makes up for it in other ways."

She drifted into her thoughts and I chose to let that particular conversation drop. I knew she and Elliot were taking thing slow in the bedroom department, but I didn't want to know the specifics of what they have or haven't done. I was just glad to see her smiling again.


	31. Chapter Thirty

**Hello Lovelies,**

 **I hope you're all doing well and enjoying your weekend so far.**

 **We're back in Christian's POV for this chapter. I really hope you enjoy it.**

 **Much Love,**

 **Chelsea x**

* * *

 **SuzB** \- Thank you! :) Christian will definitely explain why he's selling the NYC apartment, but I think Ana may have already guessed the reason for herself. I hope you enjoy this chapter! Much Love x

 **Paula White** \- Thank you! I'm glad you liked it. I hope you enjoy this chapter too. Much Love x

 **Susan** \- Thank you! I hope you like this chapter! Much Love x

 **Reds77** \- Thank you! I love that Sawyer is Team Ana rather than Team Christian. He is wary of our little pocket rocket Ana! Christian will explain why he's selling the apartment but I think Ana already sussed it for the most part. I hope you like this chapter! Much Love x

 **iamdbomangmail** \- Thank you! I'm glad you liked this chapter. I really hope you like this update. Much Love x

* * *

 **CHRISTIAN**

"I apologise for the interruption," Christian muttered as he closed the apartment door and made his way back to the couches. He sat down again and let out a small sigh. "My girlfriend just got here and there was some mix-up about where we're staying. Kate has gone with her so she won't be returning, if that's okay with you?"

"Yeah, it's totally fine. Don't worry about it."

Jake Costello shook his head and gave Christian a wide grin, brushing off the intrusion with ease. It helped to settle Christian in a flash. Despite the fact it was Ana at the door, he didn't like interruptions of any kind. It usually gave off the wrong impression to whoever he was meeting, and Christian always wanted to maintain the perfect front.

Jake's body language since he first arrived at the apartment had been completely relaxed, not even a shred of anxiety in him. The teenager had a youthful air about him, but the mannerisms of someone far older. He projected maturity in every sense of the word. He didn't sound like a typical eighteen-year-old kid, either. He was composed and articulate, unflustered by Christian's innate dominance and power.

 _If only I had been that mature at 18_ …

Eighteen had been a difficult age for Christian. His binge drinking had stopped and his anger had waned a little, but his 'relationship' with Elena had taken a much darker turn. She had pushed him to the absolute limits of his comfort zone, almost taking him too far on occasion. She had pushed his buttons in all the wrong ways.

"Was that her?" Jake asked, gesturing to the door. "Your girlfriend? The brunette?"

"Yes. Why?"

"No reason. I got a glimpse of her before you went over," the teenager shrugged. "She's cute."

"She's very cute," Christian chuckled, nodding his head. "I'm biased but she's the most beautiful woman I've ever met."

"What's her name?"

"Anastasia."

"Sweet," Jake grinned. "I like that name."

The boy sat forward and grabbed his water from the coffee table, taking a large glug from the glass. Christian watched as he slouched back into the couch, using the pause to study Jake's appearance. It was unnerving, just how much they looked alike. Tragically, Elena had been right on one thing: Jake was the perfect doppelgänger for a younger version of Christian. His eyes were a shade lighter, his hair less curly, but in every other aspect it was like looking back in time.

"How did you meet her?"

It was a simple enough question, but Christian wasn't sure how to answer Jake. They had already dug into their shared histories with Elena, but the conversation had been mostly skin-deep. Nothing too personal.

Bringing Ana into the discussion would take things to the next level. It was just about as personal as things could get for Christian.

"We met through Elena," he grimaced. Jake tilted his head in surprise. "Ana applied for a job at one of the clubs I owned with Elena. We got close when she started working there and, soon after, we began dating."

"Wow… I bet that went down well!" Jake snorted. "I can't imagine Elena was happy you had found yourself a girlfriend. It sounds like she was more possessive of you than she ever was with me."

"What was she like with you? How did she behave?"

"She was like a real-life Jekyll and Hyde," Jake nodded, his expression darkening for a moment. He shuddered. "In the beginning, she was kind of caring and protective, I guess, but by the end she was a total bitch. I couldn't handle it. I couldn't do anything unless she gave me the green light first… I wasn't allowed to eat, couldn't even use the bathroom without her permission. It was so messed up!"

Christian shook his head in disgust, his eyes dropping to the floor between his feet. Shame swept over him, the memory of Elena doing the same to him flashing through his mind.

Before they switched roles and he took control, he had been Elena's puppet.

Her pet.

"How long did it last for you?" Jake asked, a hint of trepidation in his voice. "If you don't mind me asking?"

Christian shrugged it off, letting the boy know it was okay to ask questions.

"Six years," he replied. "For five years, she was in control. For the last 12 months, we switched and I became her dominant."

"She let you do that?" Jake gasped. He exhaled a long breath, his head shaking from side to side. "Jesus… she let you do those things to her?"

"She wasn't prepared to let me go, so that was the only way she could keep me around," Christian sighed. "I wanted out. I didn't want to be a submissive anymore. She allowed me to take the lead but I eventually ended it."

"How come?"

"I realised she wasn't what I wanted. She told her husband about us, thinking we could be together afterwards."

"So you're the reason she got divorced?"

"Part of the reason, yes."

There was a moment of silence. Jake's mouth twitched, the first sign of nerves radiating from him.

"Did you enjoy it?" Jake finally asked, the words coming out in a rush.

"What?"

"Any of that stuff? The sex and the… weird crap she liked?"

Christian hesitated and rolled out the tension in his shoulders.

"I used to enjoy roleplay," he replied. "I enjoyed being a dominant… But my memories of Elena are distorted."

"What do you mean?"

"Looking back, I realise there was a disconnect between my brain and my body," he explained. "Physically, I did find pleasure in some of the things that happened between me and her. But mentally… I don't know. I'm still trying to understand it. The way I viewed things as a fifteen-year old is totally different to how I see it now. I'm starting to see it for what it was."

"Fucked up?"

"Really fucked up," Christian snorted.

Jake smirked back at him, nodding, understanding perfectly what Christian meant.

"I had just turned fourteen when it started," Jake grunted, clearing his throat as he began digging deep into that part of his life. A part he usually kept under wraps. Christian nodded, already knowing this from reading Elena's notebook. "I went into her salon asking for a job."

"At fourteen?"

"My parents were struggling," Jake shrugged. "We were never lucky where money was concerned and we were in a really bad place at the time. My mom had just lost her job and my dad's job didn't bring in a steady income. I wanted to help out, take off some of the burden."

"That's admirable of you."

"I thought that if I could bring home some cash, even if it was peanuts, it would help them out," he added, looking slightly uncomfortable. He dropped his eyes to his hands. "I had been to a lot of different places, but no one was interested. They kept saying I was too young... I was seriously pissed off when I ended up at her salon, but she took one look at me and said yes. I was allowed to start there and then."

"What did she make you do?"

"Sweeping, cleaning the floors, polishing the mirrors. Just little jobs, really."

"You were working for her for a couple months before anything happened, right?"

Jake nodded, his gaze still fixed on his fidgeting fingers.

"It was about four months, I think," he hummed. "She played it real cool, treating me like a friend, you know? But then she started getting too close. Complimenting me on the way I looked, standing too close to me, constantly touching my arms and face. That sort of thing."

"Did it become sexual soon after she started showing interest in you?"

Christian felt a great deal of unease in asking those questions, but he needed to understand what had happened between Elena and the boy. There was something compelling him to find out the true extent of her abhorrent behaviour. As if it would help him to understand the monster who had tortured and teased him for years.

"She made a move on me a few days after she told me she liked me," the teenager confirmed with a single nod. "It happened fast. Before I really knew what was happening we were… Well, you know what happened."

Christian did know what happened. He had read every note Elena had made in her diary. Everything she did to the boy, every detail graphic and clinical.

"Did it always happen at her house?"

"It happened once at the salon," Jake said. "The first time. That was before she introduced me to any of the weird stuff. It was just regular sex that first time."

"But the more intense stuff, that was at her house?"

"Yup," the boy nodded. "In the dark room she had. It was like a cave. Looked kinda medieval, you know?"

A cold blast shot down Christian's spine.

Jake was referring to the old set up in Elena's house. Before she had the attic converted, moving her playroom upstairs.

She used to share the dungeon with Linc. It had been their room, before she started taking Christian in there.

"Even while all of it was happening," Jake continued. "I knew I didn't like it. The sex didn't feel wrong, but everything else did. It was gross. I hated it."

"Did you tell her that?"

"In the end," he nodded. He slowly licked his lips. "I didn't really know there were others like me – you know, other guys she did that stuff with – but I always found one thing strange."

"What?"

"She made me answer to your name," Jake muttered. He held Christian's stare. "She would call me Christian and if I didn't respond to it, she'd hurt me."

Christian's stomach twisted, a thumping pain deep inside him.

"But I get it now. It makes sense," Jake hummed. "I look like you."

Christian slammed his eyes shut and forced himself to take long, slow breaths. Bile was starting to creep up his throat, flooding his mouth.

"You were her first, weren't you?"

He nodded his head at the boy.

"Everyone she used looked like me," he explained. "I was the first person she practiced on. Afterwards, she chose people who looked like me."

"She was really obsessed with you then?"

"I think that's putting it lightly!"

Jake puffed out his cheeks and reclined backwards, his lean body slumping into the couch. "My mom said I look like you," he said.

Christian opened his eyes and frowned, prompting the boy to continue.

"She knows I'm here. I told her I was meeting with you. We Googled you and she was shocked by how similar we are."

"Does she know why I'm meeting with you?"

Jake nodded.

"Does she know what happened to you?"

"My whole family knows about Elena," he confirmed.

Christian's brows lifted, shooting high up his forehead.

He hadn't been expecting that.

But, then, he hadn't anticipated on meeting such a well-adjusted, intelligent young man.

"I told them what she did to me," Jake said. "That's how it ended. My folks got involved."

"How did you tell them? Did you just throw it out there?" Christian wondered. "Sorry, I'm curious how you revealed that to them. I still haven't told my parents."

"It's fine," Jake smiled. "But yeah, I kinda just blurted it out over dinner… My dad said I was acting weird and I got tired of him pestering me for information, so I came out with it. You see, I had spent the afternoon with her and she… well, um, she took things too far."

The boy bowed his head as he relived those memories. They were clearly painful, still too difficult to address.

Christian didn't press him for details. He didn't need to know the ins and outs. He could probably take a guess at what Elena had done to the poor kid. She was sick and twisted in the worst ways imaginable. There was nothing she wouldn't do to try to fulfil her disgusting fantasies.

"That's when I told her to leave me alone," Jake mumbled. "She made my skin crawl and I didn't want her anywhere near me… When I got home, all I wanted to do was scrub myself down, but dinner was already on the table. I couldn't sit there with my family and pretend like everything was fine."

"So you told them?"

"I told them."

"How did they react?"

"I've never seen my dad so angry. He wanted to strangle her," Jake shook his head. "My mom went really quiet, she just sat there in a world of her own, but when she finally pulled herself together she was set on calling the cops."

"The police were never called though?"

There was certainly no mention of the police in the book. He had no recollection of the police ever talking to Elena about her private affairs.

Surely Christian, of all people, would have known if the cops were sniffing around her?

Jake shook his head again.

"I begged my mom not to call them," he revealed in a shy voice. His cheeks started to burn, the redness flaring across the centre of his face. "I made them promise not to call the police."

"Why?"

"I was embarrassed," he shrugged. "And scared."

"Of who? Elena?"

"It was hard enough telling my parents," he tried to explain. "Having to tell them everything, answering their questions. But they believed me. From the moment I told them, they believed every word I said… I couldn't handle the idea of strangers calling me a liar."

Christian slumped back in his seat.

He could understand what Jake meant. The police would have needed to question him, question every detail of his accusations.

And back then, the police would have probably brushed it off as teenage angst. Just another kid telling lies, trying to stir up trouble, wanting attention. Even with evidence in his favour, it was unlikely anyone would believe Jake.

Because everyone respected Elena Lincoln. She was a hard-working, well-respected businesswoman. She was a figurehead of the community. People looked up to her.

And if Christian knew Elena as well as he thought he did, he knew she would have had an iron-clad alibi at the ready. She covered her tracks. All of them. She was the master manipulator.

"I wish I had let them call the police, but at the time I just wanted it to end," Jake gulped. "I never wanted to see her again. I wanted to pretend like none of it had happened."

"Is that why you left Seattle? To get away from her?"

"Yeah," he nodded. "I begged my parents to let us move. They eventually agreed but we didn't have enough money so…"

Jake shifted uncomfortably. He pulled his body forward, his elbows resting on his knees. His head dipped to the floor, a slight sweat building on his brow.

The twisting in Christian's stomach intensified.

"We made a bargain," Jake whispered.

"What do you mean?"

"She gave us a million dollars in exchange for my silence," he whispered. After a beat, he raised his eyes to Christian. His fractionally lighter greys were full of shame. "She paid me off. I was desperate to leave Seattle, so we took the money and ran."

Christian's hand shot to his lips, his bile now trying to break free. He forced himself to swallow it down again, his mind whirling at the weight of this horrific revelation.

But it wasn't just the disclosure of the bribe that knocked him for six.

It was the realisation that Elena had come to him for that money.

She said it was for the businesses. Refurbs.

He hadn't questioned it for a second. Simply transferred the money straight into her account. As if it was nothing.

 _But it wasn't nothing!_

She had taken his money in order to silence the child she had abused.

The child she preyed on because he looked like Christian.

 _BITCH._

 _I hate you. I hate you. I hate you._

 _You fucking whore!_

"It was more than enough to get my family out of Seattle," Jake added, his words sounding muffled to Christian's ears. "My uncle was already out here in New York, so we stayed with him until we found somewhere to live. We took out restraining orders against her, but she never contacted me again. She left me alone after that."

Christian didn't know what to say. His mind was racing, too many thoughts pushing to the forefront and threatening to send him into a tailspin.

"I really wish things had been different," Jake said, continuing to fill the void. "I wish I had gone to the cops and made sure she was locked away for what she did. But I got out of it okay, in the end… I'm happy here. I've got a new life. A better life than I would have had if we stayed in Seattle."

"You're happy?" Christian choked on his question. "Really, truly happy?"

"I am," Jake smiled. "I don't see the point in wasting my time on regrets, you know? I wish I had let my mom call the cops but I don't spend too much time wallowing on any of that. What Elena did to me, it was just a few months of my life. She took away a few months from me, but I'm not gonna let her take anything else. What she did was bad enough."

Christian narrowed his eyes and studied the teenager. He slowly nodded his head.

"You've had therapy, haven't you?"

Jake's smile widened. "I'm still in therapy," he confirmed. "The money came in handy. It didn't just get us out of Seattle, it's paying for my therapy too. Every Monday evening at 8pm. I've never missed a session."

"And it's helping?"

"I don't know what would have happened to me if I hadn't started therapy. I'd probably be a mess!" Jake laughed to himself. "Have you tried it?"

Christian nodded.

"Does it work for you too?"

"So-so," he shrugged. "For a long time, nothing helped me. But my girlfriend's made the biggest impact on my life. She's helped me immensely. She's amazing."

"Does she know what happened?"

"She knows," Christian nodded again. "She's the reason I started breaking down what Elena did. Before Ana, I didn't question any of it. I thought it was completely normal."

"Your girlfriend didn't find it weird, when you told her? Like, she didn't find it disturbing at all?"

"She doesn't love me any less, if that's what you mean," Christian smirked. He could sense what the boy was getting at. "She doesn't look at me and see a kid who was abused. I'm just Christian to her."

Jake's smile softened, his eyes twinkling in the corners. "I hope one day I'll find someone who gets me," he hummed. "Someone who will love me and see past what happened when I was a kid."

"The right person will," Christian assured him. "I never thought I would meet someone like Ana. But don't try to rush anything. You're young. Focus on school for now."

"Oh I will! School keeps me busy, that's for sure."

"Only a select few get enrolled at Juilliard," Christian observed, already sensing the enormous pride emanating from the teenager. "Do you enjoy it there?"

"I love it," Jake grinned.

"Did some of the money pay for your tuition too?"

"It did. I don't have to worry about any of that. I just turn up and do my thing."

"You're a dancer, aren't you?"

"Ballet," he nodded. "I've also done jazz and contemporary, but ballet is my favourite… Wait. Have you been checking up on me?"

The smirk on Christian's lips stretched a little higher.

"We did some preliminary research. To find out where you were living, what you were up to, that sort of thing," he explained. "I wanted to be prepared, in case you agreed to meet with me."

"How did you find out about me?" Jake asked, his lips starting to purse. "Kate said you came across my name in a book? She didn't go into too much detail, just that you found something that linked me to Elena?"

Christian sighed as he prepared to launch into the story of how this entire fiasco started.

"Elena had a notebook where she kept details of everybody she had relations with."

"What kind of details?" Jake worried, a frown lacing through his brows. "Do you mean, like, intimate details?"

"There are no descriptions of body parts," Christian assured him, lifting his palms up to settle Jake's sudden apprehension. "And as far as I'm aware, there are no photographs or videos either. But she kept a log of what everyone looked like – hair colour, eyes, height. She also kept details of what happened and when."

"Like, whether we had sex or not?"

"Yes."

"And I'm in that book?"

Christian nodded. "In total, there were three boys she abused. You, me, and one other person."

"Have you met with him, too? The other kid?"

"No," Christian sighed. "He passed away."

"Oh…"

"Once I'd found out what she had done to other kids, I knew I had to find out where you both were," he elaborated. "I had to contact you."

"Why?"

"To check if you were okay," he shrugged. "To see if you needed anything. Needed any help."

Jake stared at him for a moment, remaining silent as he briefly disappeared into his thoughts.

"I had to try to put things right," Christian confessed. "I don't want the pain and suffering she caused to continue. I want to put an end to all of it."

"It's not your job to make things right," Jake told him, gently shaking his head. "You can't fix what she did. You can't wave a magic wand and change what happened."

"I know that, but –"

"You feel guilty, don't you?" Jake guessed. "That's the vibe I'm starting to get from you."

Christian hesitated before eventually nodding his head.

"It started with me," he muttered. "I was the first one she used. If I had said something, you would never have met her. She would have been in jail, unable to hurt anyone else."

"Maybe, maybe not," Jake shrugged. "Who knows what could have happened if things were different? She could have done a disappearing act and moved away, found other kids in a different state… I don't think anything could have stopped her from getting what she wanted."

Christian sank into the couch. He knew the kid was right. Death was the only thing that had enough power to stop Elena's reign of terror.

"I'll say one thing about her," Jake snorted. "She was good at what she did. Hurting people, I mean. Getting inside your head… For a while, she made me think that it had been my idea all along, like I had asked for her to do those things to me."

It had been the same for Christian. Elena used to tell him he wanted it, that she knew what he was craving and how to give it to him, that she was just helping him to calm down.

He felt sick every time he remembered those seedy conversations.

 _Why didn't I see how wrong it was? Why was I so fucking clueless?_

"You shouldn't waste your time obsessing over what that fucking pervert did," Jake urged him. He wriggled around until he regained Christian's focus. "She isn't worth it, dude. The best thing any of us can do is just move on and be happy. Forget about her."

Christian shook his head. "How the fuck are you only eighteen?" he snorted. "You're talking more sense than most fifty-year-olds!"

"I've got a good therapist," Jake laughed. "But my dad has always said I'm an old man trapped in a kid's body… I guess I just see things differently. I don't want to waste my life reliving what happened to me. I don't want to devote time to someone and something that doesn't matter. Life's too short for that shit."

"You're right," Christian hummed. "That's a good way of thinking."

"Some people say that success is the best form of revenge," Jake said. He shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know about that. I think being happy is more important. And I'm happy. I'm living my life, doing the stuff I love, just getting on with things… Maybe being happy is the same as being successful. Either way, I'm beating her. She said I would never amount to anything, that I would be nothing without her."

Christian nodded.

Elena said exactly same words to him. She constantly reminded him that she had taught him everything he knew – not just sex and roleplay, but how to be a man.

 _The whore was fucking deluded. I should never have listened to her._

"She was wrong," Jake declared. "I'm going to prove her wrong. I'll make sure my name is in big flashing lights, just to spite the bitch."

Christian laughed, admiring the kid's determination.

"Do you ever think about her?" he wondered.

"Sometimes," Jake shrugged. "I try not to think about her too often. If she pops into my head, I just tell her to piss off… which I know sounds crazy, especially now she's dead."

There was a brief pause.

"She is dead, isn't she?"

"Yes," Christian nodded. "I identified her body and it was definitely her."

Relief quickly swan through Jake's expression.

Jake didn't want to admit that he hadn't found the courage to Google Elena and check the news for himself. As much as he had reconciled himself with what she did to him, he still didn't want to look at pictures of her. There was a limit to his strength.

"I'm glad she's gone," he muttered.

"Me too," Christian said. "After everything she did, that was the best thing that could have happened."

"Do you think she suffered?"

"Yes. She looked in pain."

That was the thing Christian loved most out of the few moments he had had with Elena's corpse, in the autopsy room: seeing the pain etched onto her face, her skin charcoaled and blistered.

It gave him some comfort to know she had suffered for her sins.

"How did she die?"

"She was burned alive," Christian shrugged, nonchalant and matter-of-fact.

Jake didn't react. He was neither pleased nor disturbed by the information. Later, he would probably find the news comforting too. To know her death had been long and painful, that it was far from tranquil.

The pair sat quietly until Jake glanced down at his phone and checked the time.

"I should probably go," he mumbled. "I've got to meet my mom for dinner."

"Of course," Christian nodded, already rising from the couch. He waited for Jake to stand and collect his belongings before thrusting out his hand. "Thank you for meeting with me. It's a relief to see that you're doing okay."

"I'm glad we got to talk," Jake smiled as he shook Christian's hand. His grip was firm and strong. "I've got the answers to stuff I didn't understand before. Like why she called me by your name… Now I get it. I think I can finally put that to bed."

"You got to meet the person she was trying to turn you into," Christian replied sombrely.

"Well, I suppose there's worse people in the world," Jake quipped, flashing a grin. "You're an inspiration. Not just with your money and stuff, but with what you're trying to do now. Most people would have thrown that book in the trash."

 _I've never been like most people…_

"There isn't anything you need?" Christian checked.

"Nope, I'm good," Jake shook his head. "But if I ever need help, I know who to come to."

"Whatever you need, I'll sort it out," Christian promised, no hesitation in his words. "All you have to do is ask."

Jake paused for a second, letting his hand drop back down to his side. He narrowed his eyes.

"Well, there is one thing you could do for me," he mumbled.

"What?"

"Her notebook," he said. "Can you get rid of it?"

"Get rid of it?"

"Yeah, like, destroy it. Make sure no one ever sees it again."

"Right…"

"Rip it up, bury it, burn it," Jake shrugged. "I don't care, just get rid of it. I don't want my name or any details about me floating around. What happened to me – what happened to everyone in that book – should stay private, you know?"

Christian nodded his head, making a promise to the boy.

He had no intention of keeping the notebook anyway. But he smiled to himself as he thought of setting fire to the book. Letting it meet the same fate as the person who wrote it in.

"Can you do that for me?" Jake mumbled.

"Absolutely. Consider it done."

"Thanks," the teenager sighed with relief. "And remember what I said, yeah? Don't let the bitch haunt you. She's not worth it."

* * *

Thirty minutes had passed since Jake Costello left and Christian was still processing their conversation.

He had showed the realtor in and had given her permission to roam around the place on her own, taking whatever measurements and photographs she needed. He wasn't in the mood for small talk. He chose to wait in the kitchen, musing over a coffee.

He was deep in thought when Taylor appeared at his side. He glanced up and nodded to his confidante.

"How are you feeling?" Taylor asked.

Taylor had kept out of the way during the meeting, disappearing into one of the bedrooms, wanting to give Christian some privacy. He didn't need a play-by-play. He was on hand if Christian needed support, not to be another eavesdropper into his past.

"Fine," Christian hummed over the top of his mug. "A little shocked."

"By what?"

"How fucking mature he was," he shook his head. "He was so grown up. He was putting me to shame!"

"I guess a lot of people are forced to grow up fast if they have been a victim of that kind of abuse," Taylor shrugged. He leaned into the counter and stared at Christian. "You said you grew up too fast."

"Elena wasn't the only reason for that, though," Christian sighed. "I was fucked up long before she came on the scenes. She just complicated things even more."

"So, do you feel better having met with the kid?"

"Yes," he nodded. "I do. Seeing him so put-together and chilled out, it's settled my doubts. Especially after all that shit with Alexander Bradford. I was terrified that we would have another tragedy on our hands."

"We don't know if Bradford killed himself solely because of Elena," Taylor reminded him. "He had a lot on his plate anyway. He had been struggling for a while. His wife told you that herself."

"I know," Christian sighed again. "But I would have gone fucking crazy if history had repeated itself with Jake. I'm not sure I could have handled that."

"It's not your job to handle it though."

Christian rolled his eyes and flopped back into the counter, letting out a hard groan.

"What?" Taylor frowned.

"You must be the hundredth person who has said that to me," he huffed. "Telling me it's not my place to care about the other kids she messed with. That it's not my job to see if they need help."

"It isn't."

"Why doesn't anyone understand my reason for doing this!?"

"We do understand," Taylor nodded calmly. "I understand it and I support you one hundred percent, you know I do, but I still don't believe you had to do this. That you were somehow responsible."

"I did –"

"No, you didn't. You're doing this to ease your guilt, which is a load of shit anyway because none of this is your fault. You're feeling guilty because that evil bitch is still inside your head, manipulating you."

Christian chewed on the inside of his cheek.

"You know I'm right," Taylor added, crossing his arms and tilting his chin down slightly. He was shifting into Dad-mode now. "You're letting her win if you keep putting yourself through this shit. If you keep torturing yourself. Do you seriously want her to win?"

"You know I don't," he grunted. "I want to move on."

"Then do it," Taylor shrugged. "Use this meeting as a springboard. Take it as some sort of closure and let it go."

Christian was silent for a moment, stewing over Taylor's words.

Eventually, he pursed his lips and dragged his eyes back over to his friend.

"Closure?" he repeated. "Fucking closure? Really? That's what you're going with?"

Taylor cracked a grin and let out a small chuckle, the sound rich from deep within his chest.

"You're starting to sound like my fucking brother," Christian rolled his eyes.

They laughed at one another, the air in the apartment starting to loosen up.

Christian took another gulp of his coffee before turning around, making one for Taylor.

"How come you called a realtor?" Taylor asked, jerking his head across the length of the penthouse. "Why are you selling up?"

"This place isn't suitable anymore," Christian replied. It was the same response he had given last night, when they first arrived. "I don't feel comfortable here."

"Because of Ana?" Taylor guessed. "You don't want her here?"

Christian distracted himself with the coffee machine.

He shook his head on a sigh.

"You know what it was like here," he said. "How can I expect Ana to stay here, knowing what used to happen?"

Taylor nodded, understanding what Christian meant by that.

The New York penthouse was different to Escala.

Escala was Christian's sanctuary, his most private space, but he permitted submissives to enter into it. However, they were always contained to their bedroom and the playroom. Meals were delivered to their room, they didn't come out unless they were heading straight into the playroom or going home. Everything the subs touched or used had been purged long before Ana came into his life. Christian always replaced equipment and toys in the playroom, starting afresh with each new sub, but he also stripped the bedroom completely.

He had needed to after Leila Williams almost burned the place down.

The rest of Escala was unsullied. Subs didn't sit at his dining table. They didn't chill out in the television room. They weren't allowed to come and go as they pleased.

But the same couldn't be said for this apartment.

With Christian arranging to see his subs on Saturdays and Sundays, things became complicated when he had to travel to New York every weekend. He had no choice but to come to NYC, until he was able to relinquish control to a designated East coast team. He was torn between wanting to keep his businesses in order and keeping his anger and frustration to a minimum. The solution had been simple, but he regretted it now.

He would fly the subs out separately – business class and commercial, never on his jet. They didn't travel with him. Didn't even share a cab.

Mrs Jones, Grace and Mia were the only women to use his jet before Ana.

Christian would pay for the subs' expenses and he gave them the run of the penthouse. It was Escala in reverse. He would lock himself away in his bedroom, office, or the makeshift playroom he had installed in one of the guest bedrooms.

The New York apartment had only ever been a watering hole for Christian. It wasn't a home. If it wasn't for the subs and needing a safe, private place to carry out those particular arrangements, he would have simply checked himself into a hotel on each trip to the Big Apple.

"I don't want Ana constantly looking around, wondering what happened where and with who," Christian sighed. "I don't want her worrying about whether she's sitting on a chair they used… or worse, worrying that I did something with them on it."

Not that he ever did.

Ana had brought out the adventurous side in him. He had never had sex outside of a playroom setup before her.

"You know she accepts that side of you," Taylor reminded him. "She knows what you used to get up to and she doesn't have a problem with it… Does she?"

"No," Christian shook his head. "She says it doesn't bother her, but I know she doesn't like thinking about it too much. I can't blame her. I would be tearing my hair out if she had a past like mine!"

 _I'm so fucking glad I was her first…_

 _She trusted me enough to give herself to me. It's an honour I will treasure for the rest of my life._

"I just need to separate what me and Ana have from everything else," he added.

"Build new memories somewhere else?"

"Exactly," he nodded. "I want to buy a new place here. With Ana. Somewhere we love and have picked out together. Somewhere that's completely ours."

"What about Escala?"

"What about it?"

"Are you going to sell that too?"

"No, that's home," he shook his head. "It feels like home and Ana is comfortable there. I'm sure we'll move at some point, but for now I'm happy staying there."

Taylor pursed his lips and slowly nodded his head.

"What?" Christian frowned. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Because if you're planning on staying in Escala," Taylor began. "Why did I take a call from a realtor in Seattle? Talking about a house you might be interested in viewing?"

Christian broke into a wide grin, his eyes glittering with mischief.

"I'm not saying a word," he shook his head. "But all you need to know is we're staying in Escala. For now, anyway."

Taylor rolled his eyes. He was used to his boss's cryptic and mysterious ways. It was easier to just let it go than to press for an explanation.

"Is Ana okay?" Christian asked, scanning for an update on his girl.

"She's currently propping up the hotel bar with Kate," Taylor nodded. "Jaz and Sawyer are with them, keeping an eye on things. The girls are having fun, by the sounds of it."

Christian smiled, relaxing a little.

"When are you going to tell her about all of this?" Taylor wondered.

He was being careful with his phrasing, not wanting to push Christian too hard. He understood Christian's hesitancy, but he also thought Ana was more than ready to find out what was going on.

"At the first available moment – _the right moment_ – I'm going to tell her," Christian promised, a clear tone of defiance now in his words. He was making a commitment. "It's time. I know it is."

"She's a totally different girl to who she used to be," Taylor hummed. "She's so confident now."

"It's amazing," Christian smiled. "All this time she's been set on getting back to who she was before Elena and that shit at Maîtrise, but I don't think she realised just how much stronger she is now. She's changed so much. I'm in awe of her."

Taylor grinned. "You've changed too," he said, nudging Christian with his elbow. "You're a lot more relaxed now. She's calmed you down. Thank god."

"We've been through a lot in a short space of time," Christian acknowledged. "A lot of shit stuff has happened, but a lot of good too. She's brought so much happiness to my life."

"She's brought happiness to all of our lives," Taylor nodded. "Jesus, I actually enjoy working for you now. I could never say that before you met her."

Christian shoved Taylor's arm and quickly grabbed the fresh coffee from the machine, handing it over.

"You have always enjoyed working for me."

"Like fuck I did!" Taylor snorted. "I spent the first two years working for you resisting the constant urge to put your head through a wall. You drove me mad."

"Was I really that bad?" Christian frowned. "I know I was difficult, but was I really that much of a nightmare?"

"Worse than you can even imagine," Taylor nodded. "But now? You've gone from a dragon to a pussycat."

"Now I know you're taking the piss!" he huffed. "Right. Can you go find the realtor and hurry her up? I want to get back to Ana and start enjoying our weekend together."

"Yes, sir –"

Taylor saluted him and stalked off with his coffee to his lips, heading for the bedrooms at the far end of the penthouse.

Christian suppressed the chuckle bubbling inside him as he watched Taylor leave.

 _Pussycat?_

 _My fucking ass._

He downed the rest of his coffee and spun around, dropping the now empty mug in the sink. He pressed his hands into the counter and allowed his head to hang forward.

He smirked to himself.

 _Who the fuck am I kidding?_

 _I'm a total pushover where Ana's concerned. She has me wrapped around her little finger..._

 _And there's nowhere else I'd rather be._

 _Wherever she goes, that's where I want to be. Where I need to be._


	32. Chapter Thirty One

**Hello Lovelies,**

 **Thank you for the comments I received on the last chapter. I had a difficult time editing it, so it's a relief to know so many people enjoyed it.**

 **I hope you like this chapter. We're staying in Christian's POV for this one too.**

 **More coming soon.**

 **Much Love,**

 **Chelsea x**

* * *

 **SuzB** \- Thank you! I'm glad you liked it. :) This meeting was definitely a turning point for Christian. I hope you like this chapter too. Much Love x

 **Reds77** \- Thank you! I'm really glad you liked it. Elena was evil on levels no one even thought about! Pure evil. Thank god she's dead! I hope you like this chapter! Much Love x

 **Desini** \- Thank you! I'm sure this will be the start of Christian moving on from everything. I hope you like this chapter! Much Love x

 **DoloresDeeHowe** \- Thank you! I'm glad you liked it. The book will definitely be burned! It's coming soon. I hope you like this chapter! Much Love x

 **Paula White** \- Thank you! I hope you like this one too. Much Love x

* * *

 **CHRISTIAN**

The hotel bar was half-empty and surprisingly quiet when Christian and Taylor arrived, just a handful of guests dotted around.

Well, the bar was quiet except for the infectious sound of giggling coming from a table near the front of the room.

Even if he hadn't heard her laughing, Christian would still have found Ana in an instant. There was something that always drew him to her. It was magnetic and it had been there since the very first time he laid eyes on his blue-eyed beauty.

He stood on the threshold of the bar for a second, simply watching her. He revelled in the animated way she was talking to Kate, flinging her arms over her head as she acted out whatever story she was reciting. He couldn't see her face but he knew she was grinning from ear to ear.

Ana swayed on her seat and threw her head back, letting out another chuckle. Her delicious laugh cruised through the room, all eyes turning towards her. She didn't notice, blissfully unaware of the reaction she was stirring.

"You can call it a night," Christian said to Taylor. "I'll be fine from here."

"Are you sure?"

He nodded and sent Taylor on his way with a smile. He was back with his girl now, of course he would be fine. As long as he was with Ana, everything was perfect in Christian's world.

Slowly, he stalked across the room until he was directly behind her. His skin tingled from head to toe from standing so close to her, the faintest whiff of her perfume reaching his nose. He could bathe in that scent.

The two girls were at a high-table, their stools bringing them closer to Christian's height. A quick glance at the many empty glasses on the table told him they had definitely been enjoying themselves, as well as drinking the bar dry.

"Ana –" Kate blurted, nodding at Christian.

Ana spun on her seat and gasped as she tilted her head back, catching sight of him. The grin on her lips spread even higher across her face, and her arms opened wide to welcome him.

"You're here!" she half-shouted, pushing her arms around his back. She buried her head in his chest, hugging him as tightly as she could. "I was just talking about you…"

He pressed a kiss to her lips and caught a taste of whatever she had been drinking. It was fruity and laced with vodka, the potency of it enough to make even his eyes water.

"Have you two been having fun?" he asked with a smirk. The answer was as clear as day.

"We've been drinking," Ana giggled.

Her eyes were bloodshot and wide, her cheeks pinking up with a healthy glow. Kate was also bearing the signs of one-too-many drinks, though she wasn't swaying quite as much as Ana.

"Yeah, I can see that," he grinned, leaning back to study her face properly.

It was an odd sight, seeing her inebriated. He had never seen her tipsy, let alone hammered. Her usual limit was two drinks, rarely tempted by a third.

Strangely, Christian was enjoying the view. He was relieved to see her so carefree and utterly relaxed, her smile completely innocent and genuine.

 _I need to make sure she does this more often_ , he thought to himself. _Hanging out with Kate, that is_ …

 _Drunk Ana might be a hoot, but I don't think Hungover Ana will be as much fun._

She rocked on her seat again and stared up at him expectantly. He was about to ask her if she was feeling okay when she abruptly turned back to the table, slapping her hand down on it.

"I need to use the restroom again," she announced.

Christian helped her down from her stool, holding onto her for a second longer than usual to ensure she wouldn't fall flat on her face.

Jazmin Grande quickly materialised next to Christian, having leapt up from the next table over, where she had been sitting with Sawyer. She rushed forward and held out her hands to Ana.

"I'll take you –"

"Thank you… Oh, you are such a nice lady," Ana hummed, giving Grande an exaggerated nod. "I'm really glad he hired you now. I wasn't at first, you know? But I'm glad now. I like you."

"I know, ma'am," Grande smirked to herself, linking Ana's arm through hers as she escorted her to the ladies' room.

Christian shook his head and lifted himself onto Ana's stool, settling back into it with a gentle sigh.

"So…" Kate flapped her hand in front of her face. She leaned forward and lowered her voice. "How did it go? After I left?"

"It was fine," he assured her. "Really good, actually."

"Really?"

"I think we both got something out of meeting each other," he nodded.

"And the kid's okay?" she asked, narrowing her reddened eyes at him. "You don't think he'll do something stupid, like the other guy?"

"No, I don't. He's got his head screwed on properly," Christian smiled. "He'll be fine. I'm sure of it."

"Thank fuck for that!" Kate puffed out her cheeks and slammed back in her seat. "I am so glad to hear that… That's it now, right? There's no one else left in that book, is there?"

"No other minors," he confirmed. "So, yes, it's over now."

He fell silent for a moment as the information sunk in. He had completed what he set out to do. He had tracked down the other victims and done his utmost to offer them – or their families – whatever help they needed.

Was he supposed to feel relieved now it was over? Should it feel like a weight had suddenly been lifted?

Because, right now, all he felt was tired and in need of a cuddle with his favourite girl.

"All that's left to do now is tell Ana," he admitted.

"I haven't said a word," Kate promised, pressing a hand to her chest.

She didn't need to tell him. Christian knew he could trust Kate. She had proven herself to be loyal tenfold during this entire saga.

"She did ask me if your meeting was really important," she added. "I told her not to worry about it… Other than that, she's not asked anything else."

"Thank you," he nodded. "I do appreciate everything you have done for me, Kate. I know I have put you in an awkward position over this."

She frowned at him, confused.

"Making you keep all of this from Ana," he clarified. "It can't be easy for you."

"Me?" she shook her head. "It's way harder on you… You two tell each other everything. This must have killed you. Even Taylor told me you've had a hard time not telling her. We've all been worried about you falling apart because you're keeping it to yourself!"

Christian didn't reply. He didn't really know what to say to that.

He didn't want to admit just how difficult it had been, especially during the last week. Every day he had battled with the niggle in the back of his head, yelling at him to just spit it out and tell Ana the truth.

Over the past few days, he could feel the words in his throat, forming a lump that, minute by minute, was getting harder to hide. He could feel it strangling him.

"You love her a lot, don't you?" Kate asked over the rim of her glass as she took a loud gulp.

"With all my heart," Christian nodded, no hesitation in his reply.

There weren't many things in the world he was sure of, but he knew that his love for Ana had been written in the stars from the moment they met. She was meant for him, and he was meant for her.

"Good," Kate hummed. "Because I'd have to punch you in the throat if you didn't."

He chuckled back at her. If she wasn't slurring so much, he might have taken her seriously.

"Because she's my best friend," she added. She wagged a finger at him. "And she loves you too. Like, really, _really_ loves you… I'd have to slap you stupid if you did something to hurt her. It would literally destroy her if you ever stopped loving her."

"That's never going to happen."

"Glad to hear it," she grinned. "Because I kinda like you now, so I'd hate it if I had to punch you."

Kate set her empty glass down and, right on cue, the bartender sauntered over to clear all of the empties from the table. On another quick scan, Christian counted six glasses but his gut told him there had been several more throughout the evening.

 _How did they get through so many? It's only been a couple of hours._

"Can I get you another round?" the bartender asked Kate. He met Christian's eye and gave a curt nod. "Sir, can I get you a drink?"

"No, thank you," Christian shook his head. "And I think the girls are done."

Kate didn't protest, clearly knowing she had reached her limit. She grinned up at the bartender and thanked him for his hospitality. She placed both hands on the table and braced herself to stand.

"Cool, I'll just get your check –"

"Charge it to room 4110," Christian ordered.

He waved the bartender off before rounding the table to help Kate to her feet. With a curl of his finger, he beckoned Sawyer to join them.

"I want you to escort Kate to her room," he huffed, refusing to even look at Sawyer as he gave the instruction. "I'm sure even you can manage that without fucking up."

Sawyer maintained a straight expression as he took Kate's arm in his and began walking her towards the elevators. He knew not to aggravate the beast, his focus always on Ana and what was best for her. And, right now, that was not pissing off her boyfriend.

Christian watched them leave, momentarily grateful that he had assistance – even if it was Sawyer. He wasn't sure he could handle both girls in this state.

He waited by the table, Ana taking a while to emerge from the restroom. When she finally came back into the bar, her face dropped as she acknowledged Kate's absence.

"It's time for bed," Christian told her, keeping his voice low and gentle. He took her into his arms and kissed her forehead. "Kate's gone back to her room."

"But it's still so early. Can't we have just one more drink?" she grumbled, pouting her lips at him. "Have a drink with me?"

He couldn't help but smile at her. She had never looked so adorable.

"There's some water upstairs with your name on it," he said. "We'll have a drink of water. Deal?"

She shrugged her shoulders but didn't complain, happy enough to let him lead her away from the bar.

"Why is the floor moving?" she asked, pushing her body into his.

"The floor isn't moving, baby," he chuckled. "Do you feel like you're going to fall over?"

"A little…"

He pulled her into his side, placing a firm hand on her hip. "I won't let you fall," he promised. "I'll always be right here to catch you."

* * *

Grande followed them into the elevator, keeping a watchful eye on Ana until the couple were at the door to their suite. Ever the professional, she waited until they were safely inside their room before clocking off duty for the night and heading to her own suite just down the hall.

Christian walked Ana straight into the bedroom, bypassing the ostentatious living room. The suite was palatial and everything a person would expect from a hotel like The Plaza. It was more than good enough for their weekend together, but a part of Christian was still annoyed none of the legacy suites were available at short notice. He always wanted the very best – not just for himself, but for Ana too.

He turned on the lights in the bedroom and heard a small gasp leave Ana's lips, the luxury of her surroundings shocking her. He rolled his eyes. The alcohol had clearly twisted her memory, everything now seeming new and unexpected. Her suitcase was open on the floor, items overflowing onto the carpet, so he knew she had already inspected the suite for herself.

Taking her to the bed, he gently pushed her down onto the edge. He was about to step back when he caught a grimace on her face.

"Baby, what's wrong?"

"It hurts…" she mumbled. Her eyes were cast down to the floor.

"What hurts?" he frantically asked, his own gaze scanning the length of her body, trying to find where the pain was. "Ana, tell me what hurts."

"My shoes." She clumsily pointed to her feet. "Can you take my feet off? My shoes are hurting."

Christian straightened his back and brought a finger to his lips, a laugh desperate to burst out of him.

"Your shoes are hurting?" he repeated. "Or are your shoes making your feet hurt?"

"Yes!" she nodded, waving a hand at her feet. "I need them off. Can you help me?"

"My pleasure…"

He knelt down and unzipped her suede ankle boots, carefully slipping them off her feet and lining them up near her suitcase. He turned back to her feet and spent several minutes rubbing her soles, enjoying the small, appreciative groans she was projecting.

"Thank you," she hummed.

"You're welcome," he smiled. "I'll be back in a minute. You stay right here, okay?"

She didn't say anything, just flopped backwards onto the mattress. She began swinging her legs back and forth over the edge of the bed, oblivious to his exit.

Christian headed back through the suite and made a beeline for the refrigerator, collecting two water bottles. He knew it was perhaps optimistic to expect her to drink any of it now, but at the very least he could have it on standby for when she desperately needs it.

And boy would she need it.

Strolling back into the bedroom, he quietly closed the door behind him. It was a habit he had never been able to break. Ever since he was a small child, Christian was unable to settle if the door was open. He didn't feel safe unless it was closed.

He placed the bottles down on the bedside table and stood back, watching as Ana mumbled to herself. It took him a couple of seconds to realise she was singing.

"I'll be your _dream_ … I'll be your _wish_ … I'll be your _fantasy_ …"

Ana hadn't been gifted with natural musicality, but the noises she was making brought an enormous grin to Christian's lips. It didn't matter that she was dreadfully out of tune, the sound was beautiful and perfect to his ears.

"… be everything that you need… I'll love _you_ more with every breath…"

It took all of Christian's energy not to join in with her. That song was one of Grace's favourites, which meant it was one of his too.

He shuffled over and sat down beside her, leaning back on his hand so he could study her face. She rolled her head to him and grinned, pleased to see him.

 _God, that look alone can break my heart. The love in her eyes…_

"You're so pretty," she giggled. She lifted up her arm and slapped her hand to his cheek, harder than either of them anticipated. "It should be illegal to be that pretty… Every woman wants you. I can see it. They all want you."

"No one gets me but you," he reminded her. "I'm all yours."

"Lucky me," she breathed, rubbing her palm across his jaw. "I really am lucky. You're fucking amazing."

"I think I'm starting to like Drunk Ana," he snorted. "Come on, baby. We need to get you undressed."

A mischievous look quickly passed through her cornflower eyes.

"You want me naked?" she snickered. "Now, I like the sound of that…"

"Oh no –"

Christian shook his head, shifting away from her as she began rolling towards him.

"No, you can get that thought out of your head," he told her. He reached down and tapped the tip of her nose with his finger. "It's. Not. Happening."

Pouting, she pushed up onto her elbows.

"You don't want to have sex with me?" she frowned heavily. "But you always want me. You're my marathon man."

"I'm your what?"

"Marathon man," she nodded. "Because you can just keep going and going and going…"

 _Only for you, baby. Only for you._

He stroked the back of his fingers down her flushed cheek, smiling at her disappointment.

"I'm not having sex with you when you're drunk."

"Why not?"

"Because you can't give me your consent," he answered softly.

"I'm giving you consent. Do whatever you want!"

"No, not going to happen," he smirked. "Ana, I don't want you to ever regret something we do together."

"But I wouldn't," she huffed. "You know I wouldn't."

"Even so," he shrugged. He wasn't going to change his mind on this. "If I'm going to make love to you, I want you to be fully aware of what I'm doing. I want you to be an equal participant."

She flopped back with an exaggerated groan.

He leaned down over her and pecked a kiss between her brows.

"Now, because sex is off the table for tonight, we are going to get you changed and into bed," he told her. "Then we're going to snuggle and get some sleep."

"Spoil sport," she mumbled. "You better make it up to me tomorrow, Grey."

"Oh I will," he chuckled. He started to spread light kisses across her cheeks, smiling to himself as he felt her frown softening. "How are you feeling?"

"Dizzy," she admitted. She puffed out her cheeks and cranked her eyes open wide. "Christian, I'm sorry for what happened earlier."

"What are you talking about?"

"I disturbed your meeting."

"Don't worry about that," he shook his head. "I'm glad you came to see me. I was starting to go crazy."

"You missed me a lot?"

"More than you'll ever realise," he nodded.

She grinned up at him, her glassy gaze twinkling.

"Was it okay then?"

"What?"

"Your meeting. Did it go okay?"

"Yes, it was fine," he smiled. "I'll tell you all about it soon. We'll sit down together and I'll tell you everything."

"Okay," she nodded, accepting his words as if she understood exactly what he meant.

 _I hope to God you'll understand…_

"It's important you know what has been going on lately," he explained. "There's something I haven't told you."

Ana raised her head and stared at him, her eyes narrowing before quickly flying open in surprise.

"Are you pregnant?" she gasped.

If it wasn't for the look of pure, unadulterated innocence on her face, Christian would have assumed she was joking.

"No, I'm not pregnant," he grinned back at her, shaking his head on a small laugh. "It'd be a bit of a challenge for me to get pregnant."

"That's a relief," she snorted. "That makes two of us. I'm not pregnant either."

"Did you think you were?" he frowned.

He knew Ana was religious about taking her pill. It was the first thing she did every morning, straight after she used the bathroom.

That was one thing he particularly enjoyed about their relationship – the fact he never had to question her. In the past when a sub said they were on the pill, he always used condoms as a back-up. He didn't trust their word.

But he had none of those concerns with Ana. Since day one, when she told him she was going to take the pill, he felt comfortable relying on that alone. He trusted her implicitly.

"No," she shook her head, quickly dispelling any doubt in his mind. "I knew I wasn't, but at the bar earlier I got my period. I was sitting there and it was like, BAM… _Hello, it's Mother Nature and I'm here to ruin your weekend_."

She pursed her lips together.

"Should've remembered," she muttered. "I finished my strip of pills yesterday."

"Do you have more at home or do we need to get you another prescription?"

"No, it's all there," she nodded. "Just sucks…"

"Has the alcohol numbed your cramps at all?" he asked, his hand instinctively settling on her slightly bloated stomach.

He knew she always suffered at the start of her period, and during those first few days Christian struggled with the urge to wrap her up in his arms and comfort her. She didn't want smothering, just wanted to get on with things, but he hated seeing her in any pain or discomfort. The bleeding, the bloating, the cramps – he wanted to bear it all himself, simply to save her from having to deal with it.

"A little," she hummed. "I feel fine… except for my head. That feels kinda weird."

She cupped her temples with her palms and frowned. He studied her for a moment, watching as her complexion paled and a sweat started to build above her brow.

"Let's sit you up," he suggested, reaching down to ease her into an upright position.

"Oh god…"

"Do you want some water?"

She turned to face him.

Her lips parted but no words came out.

Instead, the entire contents of her stomach was released.

All the way down Christian's front.

She retched a couple of times, his shirt and pants soaked in an instant.

"I'm… so… sorry…" she mumbled, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.

"It's okay," he assured her. "It's nothing."

 _What's a little vomit between soulmates anyway?_

Her eyes filled with water, a single teardrop streaming down her cheek.

"Hey, don't cry," Christian shushed her, taking her under the chin and lifting her face to his. "It's fine, baby. We'll get you cleaned up, don't worry about it."

Carefully, he shifted off the mattress and looked down at the bed. Thankfully, the sheets had been spared but his clothes would be going straight in the trash. He loved Ana with all his heart, but there was no way in hell he would wear that shirt or those pants again.

He held out his hands, ready for Ana to take. She slipped her clammy palms into his and allowed him to lift her up to her feet. Each of their steps were slow and calculated, until they were in the safety of the all-tiled bathroom.

 _Wipe down surfaces, that's what we need right now…_

"I feel sick," she groaned.

Moving her as quickly as he could, Christian placed her in front of the toilet and no soon as he raised the lid, her head was forward and her mouth emptying more of her stomach down the bowl.

He knelt down beside her and held her hair out of the way, his other hand gently stroking her back as she cleared her system.

 _Better out than in._

 _Better down the toilet than on me…_

"You're not going to leave me, are you?" she whimpered. She dropped her elbow onto the toilet and slumped her head on her hand. "I don't like being on my own when I'm sick."

"I'm not going anywhere," he promised.

She glanced over her shoulder to him. "Do you think I'm getting the flu?"

He had to resist the urge to laugh at her.

"No, baby," he shook his head. "This is the alcohol… Have you ever been drunk before?"

"Just the one time," she mumbled. "But I don't think I was sick… I don't remember what happened back then. It was a long time ago."

"It's okay –"

"I don't think I can remember anything anymore…"

"Do you remember who I am?" he quipped, unable to hide his playful smirk.

She rocked back on her heels and stared at him, her gaze just as wobbly as her body. But a slow smile crept across her dry lips.

"I could never forget you," she whispered. "I really want to kiss you but I think I might puke again."

"For possibly the first and last time, I'm going to beg you not to kiss me," he chuckled. He leaned forward and pressed a light kiss to her temple. "I'll look after you."

"I want to go to bed now," she moaned, her head falling onto his chest with a thud. "I need my bed."

"I'll put you in bed when I've got you cleaned up," he told her. "And right after I've got out of these clothes."

"I'll buy you a new shirt," she muttered. "And some pants. And shoes…"

 _Oh god, it's even on my fucking shoes…_

Christian shook his head and kissed her again.

"Forget about that," he said. "I can replace all of those. I can't replace you."

"You're such a good man," she hummed. She gingerly lifted her head and smiled at him. "I'm a very lucky girl to have someone like you in my life."

"Trust me, baby, I'm the lucky one."

"Even when I've puked on you?"

"Even then," he smirked.


	33. Chapter Thirty Two

**Hello Lovelies,**

 **We're back in Ana's POV for now. I'm glad Christian's chapters worked well and so many of you enjoyed them. :)**

 **I hope you like this chapter!**

 **More coming soon!**

 **Much Love,**

 **Chelsea x**

* * *

 **Reds77** – Thank you! I loved writing drunk Ana. I love how innocent and naïve she is! Christian definitely had his hands full, but he probably relished in the chance to look after her. I hope you like this chapter! Much Love x

 **SuzB** – Thank you! Oh yes, the hangover will not be fun for poor Ana! I hope you like this chapter! Much Love x

 **Susan** – Thank you! Please don't worry about not reviewing, I never expect anything from readers. Sending you lots of love and hugs! Much Love x

 **DoloresDeeHowe** – Thank you! The reveal is coming, I promise. Not too much longer to wait! I hope you like this chapter! Much Love x

 **Iamdbomangmail** – Thank you! I'm glad you liked it. I hope you like this chapter too! Much Love x

* * *

 _Fuuuccckkkkk._

I lifted my head from the pillow and winced, the muscles in my neck putting up a fight and protesting any kind of movement, however slight or cautious. The pain crept into my head, my skull feeling like it was being crushed between blocks of concrete.

 _Oh god, my temples_ … They were throbbing, a burning sensation that spread behind my eyes and nose. There was also a lingering taste of acid in the back of my throat, making me feel more and more nauseous by the second.

I wasn't sure if I could even open my eyes. It felt like they had been glued shut.

 _Jesus Christ -_

 _How much did I drink?_

The last thing I remembered was sitting with Kate, downing a cocktail called Blue Lagoon. It was maybe our third or fourth drink. The bartender had been happy enough to keep the drinks coming, setting a new one down as soon as the previous had been drained. I remembered that particular cocktail tasted much stronger than the others, which might go some way to explain why I now feel like the creature from the Black Lagoon…

I carefully propped myself against the headboard and cranked my dry eyes open, taking a risky glance around the room. Thankfully, the drapes were still drawn, only a glimmer of light seeping in. It took me several minutes to remember where I was, the silver and purple colour scheme so very different to our bedroom at home.

Small scraps of memories began filtering into my mind.

New York. Hotel. The Plaza.

Christian.

I tilted my head down and studied the space beside me, frowning when I discovered it was empty. I hated waking up alone, instantly feeling bereft and cold.

I didn't know how long I had been alone, or how long I had even been asleep.

 _You don't know what bloody day it is, let alone the fucking time, you idiot!_

Twisting towards the bedside counter, I checked the alarm clock and saw 9:28am flashing back at me. Next to the clock was a bottle of water and two pills. I smiled as I picked them up, instinctively taking the pain relief that had been left out for me. The water was cold and soothing as it trickled down my stinging throat.

As I turned to set the bottle down again, my attention was caught by something familiar hiding behind the clock. I reached out and pulled it forward, my heart fluttering at the sight of the small white teddy bear.

I can't believe he brought it with him.

I stroked my fingers down the grey sweater the bear was wearing, a Union Jack stitched onto the front. I had given the bear to Christian while we were in London. He had shared with me a story about his birth mother and the only gift she had ever given him – a dirty, stuffed bear she had found in a dumpster. He had treasured the toy until she cruelly snatched it back, ripping it apart in front of him. The story had unnerved me, just one of many that give me an insight into the horrors he had to endure as a child. I had originally bought the bear for myself, as a souvenir of our trip, but I decided Christian needed it more than me.

The bear usually sits on his bedside counter, between his phone charger and the lamp. It hasn't moved since we brought it home from London.

 _Why did he bring it out here?_

Lifting the bear up to my face gave me the answer I was looking for. I inhaled a deep breath, a heady whiff of my Guerlain perfume filling my nose.

"You're awake –"

I snapped my head to the door and grimaced as another pulse of pain curled around my neck. Fast movements. Not good with a hangover. Not good at all.

Christian was leaning against the doorframe, his feet crossed at his ankles. He was wearing dark-wash jeans and a white t-shirt, and he looked perfectly fresh-faced and alert.

He smirked as he strolled over to the bed, coming to sit down next to me.

His eyes fell to the teddy bear.

"I was hoping you wouldn't find that," he mumbled, his lips pressing together into a hard line.

"Why?"

"It's stupid," he shrugged. Shyness started to twist at his features, narrowing his gaze to a pinpoint. "I thought it would help me sleep. I knew I wouldn't sleep properly without you, so I figured it was the next best thing."

"Is that why you sprayed my perfume on it? So it would smell like me?"

He nodded and I felt my heart squeeze.

"Did it work?" I asked, my voice sounding croaky and hoarse as emotion began to overwhelm me. "Did you manage to sleep without me?"

"I did," he smiled, bashful. "I wasn't sure if it would work, but it did… God, I must have looked like a fucking loser. Cuddling up to a toy. It's pathetic, I know."

Pathetic wasn't a word I would use to describe the image now flooding my mind. A naked Christian curled up under the comforter, clutching the bear to his chest.

"I mean, what 29-year-old man sleeps with a fucking teddy bear?" he huffed in embarrassment, shaking his head.

I reached across and wrapped my hand around his. "Christian," I sighed. "Don't. It's not pathetic. It's…"

"Ridiculous?"

"No," I shook my head. "It's a case of needs must. You did what you had to do. It's actually really sweet."

"How did you cope?" he asked, clearing his throat. The way he shifted on the bed told me he wanted to forget all about the bear. "Were you able to sleep without me?"

"Falling asleep wasn't the problem," I muttered. "Staying asleep proved a bit tricky. Turns out you're not the only one who needed something to cuddle."

"What do you mean?"

"I ended up on your side of the bed," I admitted, raising my tired eyes to his. "I woke up and I was hugging your pillow."

My revelation brought a grin to his face, slight creases crowding his eyes.

He plucked the bear from my lap and returned it to the table. I smiled to myself as he set it in front of the clock this time, the bear now proudly on display.

"How are you feeling?" he asked, transferring his attention back to me. His hand smoothed its way up my leg, rubbing me through the comforter. "Hungover?"

I scrunched up my face and exhaled a low groan.

"That bad, huh?" he chuckled. "My poor baby."

Christian leaned forward and pressed his lips to my clammy forehead, offering the lightest of kisses. It still felt like a drill going off inside my skull.

"Are you mad at me?" I whispered.

"What?" he jerked his head back and frowned, genuine confusion creeping over his brows. "Why would I be mad at you?"

"For getting drunk," I shrugged my shoulders. "I was completely out of it."

He nodded in agreement.

"But you were safe," he finally replied. "You were having a good time, enjoying yourself. I have no reason to be mad."

It was my turn to frown.

I hadn't expected that response. My gut had warned me he would be pissed off, that he would think I had been reckless and stupid. Maybe I was reckless and stupid to get in that state, judging by how I feel this morning...

I have only been drunk once before and the experience was enough to mentally scar me. It was the weekend of my 21st birthday and Kate had the not-so-brilliant idea to throw me a party. I didn't know half the people there, and I definitely didn't know what was in the drinks that kept coming my way. I must have drunk my entire body weight in alcohol, and the hangover the next morning was a fate worse than death.

That hangover lasted days. I couldn't have felt any worse if I had been hit by a fifty-ton truck. One more drink and I probably would have ended up in the emergency room.

I can't comprehend how people put their bodies through that on a regular basis. Have they lost all feeling in their heads? And what about their livers? Mine already hurts, a dull ache needling my right side.

"You've taken the Advil I left out," Christian hummed, glancing down at the bedside counter.

"Thank you," I smiled. "I'm glad you thought ahead… It feels like a bomb has gone off inside my brain."

"I can remember that feeling," he smirked. "It's been a long time since I got that wasted, but I knew you would probably wake up feeling like shit."

"Worse than shit," I nodded.

"Lucky for you, I know the best way to cure a hangover."

The promise of a cure piqued my interest, my eyes widening in anticipation.

"Plenty of water and regular pain relief," he began, reeling off the checklist on his fingers. "Carbs and protein. The best thing you can do right now is to eat something."

My stomach rolled, dismissing that idea in an instant.

I shook my head at him.

"I'm serious, Ana," he said. "You have to eat something. You should have eaten something last night, _before_ you started drinking."

"If I try to eat something now, I'll puke," I told him, adamant that nothing solid would pass my lips. In or out.

"You mean you'll puke again," he corrected me.

 _Huh?_

"What do you mean?"

"You threw up last night," he explained. He leaned forward slightly and lowered his voice. "All over me."

"I did what…?"

I pulled my body upright, my spine becoming rigid as a shiver worked its way across my skin. Shame fired through me at record speed, my jaw falling open in shock.

"I t-threw up on you?"

He nodded, his smirk growing higher and wider.

"Oh my god…" I groaned. I slumped hard against the headboard and slowly slid down the length of the bed, until I was flat on my back again. I covered my face with my hands, trying to hide the burn I could feel building in my cheeks. "I can't believe it."

I felt the mattress shift as Christian lifted himself up. Within seconds, he was on top of me, his chest flush with mine. I wriggled slightly, parting my legs so he could nestle between them. Even through the heavy comforter I could feel the perfectly defined lines of his body.

"Tell me you're kidding?" I begged.

"Can't," he chuckled. "I was absolutely covered in it. I had to throw out everything I was wearing. Even my underwear."

 _Fuck._

 _Not the navy three-piece suit… I love that suit on him…_

"And then I had to scrub the both of us down," he added. His face nuzzled into the crook of my neck, his lips dancing along my throat. "Trying to shower you while you were in that state was an interesting experience."

"I am so, so sorry," I shook my head. "You shouldn't have had to deal with that. I don't know why I drank so much. I'm a fucking idiot."

"Hey –"

He lifted onto his elbows and stared down at me. I watched him through the gaps of my fingers before he pulled my hands down, revealing my crimson face to him.

"Like I said, you were having fun," he purred. "I'm never going to begrudge you having fun… Now, I'm not saying I loved having vomit all over me, but I did enjoy looking after you."

"Are you serious?" I grimaced. "You enjoyed having to clear up my mess? Literally?"

"I like looking after you," he smiled. "I'll happily play nurse any time you need me to."

"Hopefully never," I shook my head. "I'm never drinking again!"

"Sure," he hummed, shaking off my sentiments. "You'll feel better soon."

"Just how much did I drink last night?"

"When I arrived, there were six empty glasses on the table," he nodded. "And I'm guessing there had been just as many prior to me getting to the bar. If not more. You could hardly stand up."

I tried my hardest to wrack my brain for glimpses of the night, willing myself to remember anything beyond that neon-blue cocktail.

I shook my head on a sigh.

"I can't remember anything," I confessed. "I don't remember you joining us."

"I'm sure it will come back to you," he said. "Once the hangover has shifted, you'll probably start to remember what happened. But I have it on good authority you didn't do anything stupid, so there's nothing to worry about."

That was a small relief.

It's bad enough finding out you puked all over your boyfriend, but I think I might actually die of embarrassment if I did some stupid, like accidentally flashing my panties to a room full of people.

Christian brushed the tip of his nose against mine, his fingers reaching up into my hair and toying with the frizzy ends.

"I'm so glad you're here with me," he whispered, his eyes locking on his fingers. "I don't think I could have managed another day without you."

"Me neither," I mumbled. "I did miss you."

"I should fucking hope so!" he snorted. He shot me a quick glance. "I'd be worried if you didn't."

"No, I mean, I didn't expect to miss you as much as I did," I smiled. "By the time I got on the plane, I was going a little crazy. I needed you in my arms."

The corner of his lips rose into a delighted grin. He brought his face down again and nuzzled his nose against mine, soft and slow caresses that made my skin grow warm and tingly all over.

"How did your meeting go yesterday?" I quietly asked.

"It was productive," he confirmed, his lips dipping to mine. His kiss was light but electric. "You already asked me about it last night."

"I did?"

"You did," he smiled. "I want to tell you about the meeting. Talk you through what went down."

"You can tell me now, if you want?"

He looked me in the eye for a moment and then shook his head, bringing his lips down for another kiss.

"It's not the kind of thing we should talk about when you're battling a monster hangover," he explained. "Besides, we need to get you fighting fit as soon as possible. We have a weekend full of sight-seeing ahead of us."

"All of my touristy shit?" I smirked.

"We'll be swimming in touristy shit by the time the weekend is over," he laughed. "I know all of the places you want to see. You reeled it off in the shower last night. _Twice_."

"God, how the hell did you cope with me?" I chuckled. "I must have been an absolute nightmare."

"The only nightmare was having to check on you every five minutes," he admitted. "I was worried you might vomit in your sleep and choke, so I couldn't settle until I was sure you would be okay. You slept right through the night, but I didn't get off until about 2am."

I felt a pang of guilt ripple through my stomach, stirring up another wave of nausea alongside it.

"What time did you wake up?" I wondered.

"About an hour ago. I had some errands I needed to run, so I figured it was best to get them out of the way while you were still sleeping," he shrugged. "I don't want anything eating into your touristy shit or my Ana time."

"Your Ana time?"

"Three whole days of being utterly consumed by my beautiful, incredible girlfriend," he winked. "I have been counting down to my Ana time."

I liked the idea of having undisturbed Christian time… No work, no worries, no drama for the foreseeable.

It sounded like pure bliss.

"Plus, I wanted to make sure Kate left okay," Christian added.

"Kate's gone home?" I frowned. "Already?"

I didn't know the details of Kate's plans, but I thought she would stick around for at least one more day.

"She left on an early flight," he nodded. "I think she's missing Elliot. Sawyer has flown back with her."

I couldn't help but notice the way his lips turned into a snarl at the mention of Sawyer.

"He's a good man," I shot back, shaking my head. "I know you don't like him, but I do. I feel comfortable with Sawyer. I trust him."

"I don't. I can't trust him after what happened."

"Maîtrise wasn't Sawyer's fault," I muttered. "And you know it."

Christian exhaled a long sigh, closing his eyes for a second.

"If Sawyer hadn't gone in first, if he had just used his brain for five seconds and realised something was wrong, you wouldn't have been hurt," he grumbled.

"Cal and José would be dead," I countered. "That place would have gone up in smoke whether I was in there for not. Things could have been much worse, you know."

"It was bad enough," he huffed. "I thought I was going to lose you. That's a kind of agony I _never_ want to feel again. It almost destroyed me."

I lifted my hands to his face and held him steady, keeping him as close to me as possible.

"It'll never happen again," I promised him. "You're never going to lose me."

I kissed him hard and fast, hoping my promise would seep into him and give him the kind of reassurance he needed.

He sighed a low moan into my mouth and pressed his body deeper into mine.

"Do you think you can eat something yet?" he asked, finally breaking contact with me. He peered down, staring me out. "Anything? Maybe some toast?"

I knew what he was doing. Whenever those anxieties resurface, he fusses over me. Checking if I'm hungry or need something to eat was usually his default.

And while I didn't think I could even stomach the smell of food right now, I nodded my head simply to appease him.

His smile returned, spreading broadly across his face.

"I'll order room service," he announced, quickly peeling himself from my body. He clambered off the bed and smoothed down his t-shirt. "When you're feeling better, we'll make a start on your list. I want us to hit every place on it."

I pulled myself up again and reached for my water, needing another sip of its crisp coolness.

"What's that?" I asked, pointing to the red giftbag on the bedside counter.

It wasn't there a few minutes ago and I didn't see him bring anything into the bedroom…

"One of my errands," Christian smiled, glancing back at me from over his shoulder. "It's for you. Open it."

Without saying another word, he exited the bedroom, pulling the door to a soft close behind him.

Curiosity got the better of me, my hands snatching at the bag and pulling it into my lap.

My senses heightened as I saw _Cartier_ in fine, gold cursive printed onto the front of the bag. I rummaged through the bag's tissue paper and carefully removed the box nestled inside.

It was a palm-sized jewellery box. Blood-red with gold edges, and a lot heavier than I expected it to feel.

At first, I almost couldn't bear to look at the diamonds twinkling back at me as I opened the lid, a hard lump forming in my throat.

On a plump bed of black velvet sat a platinum necklace, the chain thin and dainty, with a solid heart-shaped pendant hanging from the centre. The heart was studded with tiny diamonds all around the outside, a single larger stone in the middle.

I slowly turned the pendant over, my breath catching as I read the inscription on the back.

 _You have my heart…_

 _C x_

My eyes stung with tears as I removed the necklace from the box and fastened it around my neck. I held his heart to my chest and closed my eyes.

Mr Romantic strikes again, rendering me completely speechless.

* * *

 **PS - For those of you have been asking about the reveal and Christian telling Ana about the notebook... It's happening in the next chapter, I promise! x**


	34. Chapter Thirty Three

**Hello Lovelies,**

 **Apologies for the short delay between the previous chapter and this one. I had planned to post this a lot sooner, but I haven't been feeling too great recently. I'm slowly on the mend (I hope!) so it should be business as usual from now on.**

 **I hope you enjoy this chapter. It's the much anticipated reveal.**

 **Much Love,**

 **Chelsea x**

* * *

 **SuzB –** Thank you! I'm glad you liked it. :) I hope you enjoy this chapter too. Much Love x

 **Paula White –** Thank you! I hope you like this chapter! Much Love x

 **Susan –** Thank you! I'm really glad you're enjoying this story. That's wonderful to hear. I hope you like this chapter! Much Love x

 **DoloresDeeHowe –** Thank you! The reveal is happening in this chapter. I hope you enjoy reading it. Much Love x

 **Reds77 –** Thank you! It really was the perfect gift. Christian is such a sweetheart! I hope you enjoy this chapter! Much Love x

 **Camille –** Thank you! I hope you like this chapter. Much Love x

* * *

The weekend passed far too quickly, Monday morning bringing us back to Seattle with enormous grins on our faces. We were both well-rested and armed with enough memories and souvenirs to last a lifetime. The Big Apple had provided us with the perfect mini-break.

New York was everything I wanted it to be and then some.

Christian had planned our days with the ultimate precision, somehow finding just enough time to check off every place I was desperate to see. I didn't know how he did it, the man was a miracle worker. The Empire State Building, The Hard Rock Café, The Met, The Statue of Liberty – we saw it all. We even managed to cram in a romantic picnic in Central Park, shaking off Taylor and Jaz for a couple of hours of alone time.

I don't think I stopped smiling once during the whole weekend and, surprisingly, neither did Christian. I had wondered if he would hate being dragged around the places he had probably seen a million times already, but he was thoroughly content going between the different landmarks and taking a whole photo album worth of selfies with me. He was enjoying it just as much as me.

We ended our stay with a trip down Fifth Avenue, visiting almost every store so Christian could buy me lavish and over-the-top gifts. I had fought him on every item, trying to shrug off his suggestions, but eventually I succumbed to his charm and determination.

It was the earrings that did it.

We were ambling through Tiffany's when I saw them in the corner of my eye, instantly falling in love with the aquamarine tear-drop earrings. They were understated, yet breath-taking. I was in awe of the clear blue gems surrounded by glistening diamonds. Christian had called over the store assistant and handed her his credit card before I had even read the $12,000 price-tag. My stomach had dropped at the sight of all those zeros.

"You're worth every penny," he had whispered in my ear as the sale was made. "Your eyes lit up when you saw them. I'll pay any price to keep that look on your face, baby."

As uncomfortable as the money issue made me, I knew I shouldn't complain. I was well aware this was the literal definition of a first-world problem. This kind of thing doesn't happen to every woman. I knew I was extremely lucky to have a man who wants to spoil me with Tiffany earrings and a Cartier necklace…

Besides, it's not just his money he spoils me with. He does it with his time and affection, too. And I would never moan about that.

We touched down in Seattle shortly before 8am, returning to Escala soon after. I had originally planned on going straight to work after landing but as my feet met the tarmac, I decided to call Mark and ask if I could work from home. I wasn't quite ready to say goodbye to the weekend, and the flight home had zapped some of my energy. I was in desperate need of a hot shower and my comfy sweats.

Mark had no qualms with my request, that bloody rose truly working its magic on my boss. I bet he keeps it by his bed and gazes lovingly at it before falling asleep. His burgeoning crush on Christian showed no signs of slowing down.

As soon as we got home, Christian and I took our things straight into the bedroom and dumped our cases on the bed, ready to be unpacked. Christian was adamant Mrs Jones would take care of them but I was quick to open up my suitcase, wanting to sift out the trinkets I had bought. I'll admit some of them were on the tacky side, but I wanted to buy things to commemorate my first trip there. The travel collection on my desk at SIP was starting to grow - first with figurines from London, and now there were some NYC keepsakes ready to join the mix.

 _Maybe one day we'll go to Paris? I would love a miniature Eiffel Tower…_

"Are you hungry?" Christian asked, coming up behind me and wrapping his arms around my waist. His face nuzzled into the side of my neck, his stubble tickling me. "I can ask Mrs Jones to make you something, if you want?"

I snorted under my breath.

"What?"

"Do you think you'll ever learn to cook?"

"I can cook," he grumbled. "I can make toast…"

"That's not cooking," I chuckled. I leaned into his chest and turned my head to the side, looking back at him. "I mean, actual cooking. Making something substantial, not shoving bread in the toaster or reheating something in the microwave."

"I don't need to cook," he replied. "I have no need to learn. I've got Mrs Jones."

"And what happens when she eventually retires?"

"I'll hire a new Mrs Jones," he shrugged. "Or I'll get you to cook for me."

My brows shot up my forehead. "You really think I'll be waiting on you, hand and foot? Feeding you grapes while you dick around with your game of Monopoly?"

He pressed his lips together to stop the smirk fighting to break free.

"I would rather tie you to the bed and make you scream the place down," he muttered, burying his lips in my neck and slowly working his way to my ear lobe. "Now, enough of the smart mouth and back to my question, are you hungry?"

I cracked a wide grin and spun around in his hold. I hooked my hands in the small of his back.

"No, I'm not hungry," I shook my head. "Thank you for a truly wonderful weekend."

"It was you who made it wonderful," he protested. "Every day with you is wonderful. Perfect, even… You make the world a beautiful place to live in."

"You're doing it again," I mumbled, feeling my cheeks heat up. The backs of my eyes prickled. "Saying cute and romantic things that will make me cry."

The corner of his mouth rose into that delicious smirk I loved. "Ah," he sighed. He leaned down and kissed me, a soft peck on my lips. "You're not at work right now, so I can't get in trouble for being cute and romantic. You only said not at work."

I think I might be rethinking that rule already. I love cute and romantic Christian…

"Are you going to GEH today?" I wondered. I fluffed out my lower lip. "I don't think I'm ready to give you up yet."

"You never have to give me up, period," he chuckled. "And, no, I'm staying home today. You have me all to yourself."

I grinned at the prospect of a lazy day together.

He silently studied my face for a moment, his gaze trailing across my cheeks, my eyes and my mouth, as if he was trying to familiarise himself with every curve and dimple. It was strange. He knew my face like the back of his hand...

I couldn't read his expression, couldn't tell what he was thinking, but it made a shiver cruise straight down my spine.

"Can we talk?" he finally asked.

His question was posed with tenderness and, if I didn't know any better, a degree of trepidation.

"Sure," I nodded.

I shuffled back towards the bed and was about to sit down, but he pulled me forward and shook his head.

"Not in here," he muttered, a slight tremble in his voice.

With a firm grip on my hand, Christian walked me out of the bedroom and over to the couches. He took his time, easing me down into my favourite spot in the corner of the L-shaped sofa. He plumped the pillows behind me, his sudden nervousness beginning to put me on edge.

He looked down at me and reached out with his hand, carefully stroking the backs of his fingers across my cheek.

"I'll be back in a second," he promised.

Before I could say anything, he was gone. I watched as he strode down towards his office, disappearing from view in no time at all.

A part of me wanted to follow him, eager to know why he was acting weird, but I couldn't bring myself to stand up. I was completely frozen, rooted to the couch, unable to do anything more than blink and gawp in sheer bewilderment.

I didn't like the icy cold feeling that was skulking through my gut. The hairs on my arms rose as another shiver passed over me, a lot stronger this time.

Christian returned a minute later. His head was bowed to the floor, a definite drag in his feet as he shuffled over.

He sat down adjacent to me, within touching distance. His knee brushed mine as he leaned forward and placed something on the coffee table in front of us.

I glanced down and studied the plain, black leather notebook.

My brows pulled together on a frown.

"Is that what you want to talk about?" I hummed, lifting my eyes from the book to him.

He was staring at it too.

He nodded once, his gaze still on the book.

"Is that your journal?"

He snapped his head up to me, his eyes hooded and darker than usual.

"I've seen you with it before," I told him. "A couple of times, actually. I think I saw you showing it to Flynn…"

His throat bobbed in response.

I wondered if Flynn had encouraged him to write down his thoughts and feelings. Christian doesn't strike me as the type to bear his soul on paper, but I knew he was prepared to try new things. He was opening up to the idea of new techniques and methods, anything that could possibly help him move on from his tormented past.

"Ana," he sighed my name. He slowly shook his head. "It's not my journal."

I tilted my head to the side. "Oh, it's not?"

"No."

"What is it, then?"

He inhaled a deep breath. His tongue darted across the seam of his lips, one of his nervous ticks making an appearance. I could feel my heart rate rising.

"There's something I need you to know before we get into this," he said. "I need you to know I have tried my best to protect you. From the very beginning, that's all I've tried to do. All I've _wanted_ to do."

His eyes widened and his face grew pale, his forehead glistening with tiny beads of sweat.

"Since all of that shit with Maîtrise, I've been doing everything I can to keep you safe," he quickly added. "Not just physically, but emotionally too. I wanted you to feel safe."

"I do…"

"Your happiness has always been so important to me," he said. The words were tumbling out of his mouth at record speed, rolling into each other. "Because you deserve to be happy. After everything you went through with that fucking club, you have a god damn right to be happy and the last thing I wanted was to see you have another set back and have it all snatched away again."

"Why would I have a set back?" I asked, tentatively.

"I need you to know I never thought in a million years this would happen," he blurted, ignoring my question. "It was a huge surprise to me when I found out. I didn't want any of this to happen. I've been trying to think of ways to tell you this without destroying everything you've worked hard for, but I don't know if there is a right or wrong way to break this to you."

"Christian?" I shifted closer to him and frantically cupped his hands between mine. His fingers were shaking and cold. "Okay, you're really starting to scare me now. What's going on?"

"You know I don't want to upset you? You know that, right?"

"Yes. Yes, of course I do," I nodded. "But what the hell is this about?"

His throat bobbed again and he closed his eyes, squeezing them shut.

"It's not my journal," he gulped. "That book… It belonged to Elena."

Despite the rushed way he uttered that name, a kind of numbness I hadn't felt for a while fired through me like a bolt of lightning. The shiver turned into a violent jerk, my whole body rejecting any mention of that woman.

My hands and feet prickled with pins and needles. I struggled to swallow past the lump in my throat.

 _It's her book?_

 _Christian has her book._

I felt the contents of my stomach lurch into my mouth.

 _He's been in contact with her?_

 _She's back…_

Christian shuffled forward, nearing the edge of the couch. He turned his hands in mine and grasped my fingers, ribbing them against his own. I could barely register the sensation. He could have snapped all of my fingers in half and I wouldn't have felt a thing.

"I was given it a month ago," he revealed.

"H-How…?" I choked. "I thought she was… she's supposed to be –"

He brought my hands to his lips and kissed each of my knuckles.

"She's dead," he promised, whispering the reassurance I desperately needed but couldn't absorb. "She didn't give it to me. It was her attorney."

I stared at him, unblinking.

"She left me everything in her will," he mumbled. "I got a call from her attorney and he said she had made me her sole beneficiary. The businesses, her house, all of her assets. Everything's mine."

 _As well as that book_ , I mentally added for him.

He shot a glance at the incriminating notebook.

"It was in a safety deposit box," he said. "I had to go to the vault to empty it, so I could close the account. That book was the only thing in there."

I wanted to vomit. Purge myself of the pressure building inside me.

If she went to such lengths to hide it, that book had to be important.

I wasn't sure I wanted to know what was in it.

I felt like jamming my fingers in my ears and screaming _LA-LA-LA_ at the top of my lungs.

"I was going to throw it in the trash," Christian shook his head. "But I flicked through it. I don't know why, curiosity maybe... When I realised what it was, I couldn't ignore it. I couldn't sit back and do nothing. I had opened a can of worms."

 _Oh god._

"W-What…?"

"She kept details," he snarled. "That fucking bitch made notes about us. About everyone she ever touched. Every submissive. Details about our appearance, what she did to us, dates of when stuff happened…"

I snatched my hands out of his hold and pressed my fingers to my mouth, my stomach retching hard and fast.

"I wasn't the only one," he said, dragging his watery eyes up to mine. "There were others after me. I wasn't the only kid Elena abused."

 _Elena._

I shook my head and willed all of this to go away.

The room started to throb around me, the walls shifting from their places and closing in.

 _Elena._

My chest heaved as I tried to suck in a breath.

 _Elena. Elena. Elena._

Her name. On repeat in my head. Over and over.

"I've been searching for them," Christian blurted.

He reached for my hands again but I pulled back, recoiling into the cushions behind me. My skin was on fire, heat pulsing through my veins.

"Ana, I had to look for them," he pleaded. "I couldn't ignore it, couldn't block out the fact she had hurt other kids because of me."

I narrowed my eyes at him.

"It started with me," he explained, shaking his head. "I was her first sub. All of the others were chosen because they looked like me. She was fucking obsessed with me. I always had a feeling but I didn't think it went this far. I didn't think she was this fucked up!"

I couldn't shake off the thought of him and that book. Him stewing over it. Reading her innermost thoughts.

For a month.

She's has been back in his life for a month.

 _Elena._

And I didn't know...

My neck gave out, my head hanging forward as a guttural sound escaped my lips.

"I had to find them and see if they were okay," he muttered in a rush. He dropped to his knees and crawled towards me, his hands clasping around my calves. "I wasn't able to stop it from happening to them, but I wanted to offer them some help now. Get them whatever help they need."

I couldn't process what he was saying.

 _Elena._

I wanted to smack my fists against my head, beat her name out of my mind forever.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner," he apologised.

He ran his hands up and down my legs. Inside, I was willing him to stop. I didn't want to be touched. Couldn't handle it.

"I wanted to tell you as soon as I found out, but I couldn't."

 _HE DIDN'T WANT YOU TO KNOW, ANASTASIA._

I slammed my eyes shut and squeezed them as tightly as I could, praying that voice – her voice – would disappear.

 _HE'S MY CHRISTIAN AGAIN._

 _JUST LIKE THE OLD DAYS…_

"I couldn't find the right words," Christian huffed. "I didn't know how to tell you."

My head was whirling.

It's too much to process.

That disgusting, evil woman did everything she could to hide her dirty little secret from the world.

The secret Christian found out.

The secret he has been hiding from me.

I didn't have a fucking clue -

"You were struggling," he whispered, staring up at me. "You were still so fragile when I found out. I couldn't dump this on you. I wanted you better, back to normal. This would have sent you straight to the fucking psyche ward if I had told you the day I learned about this!"

"H-How many?" I croaked, finding my voice somewhere in the midst of the chaos tearing through my body.

"How many, what?"

"Kids. How many?"

"There were three of us," he muttered. "I was the first and what happened between me and her, it lasted longer than it did with any of the others."

I shook my head at him.

I cranked my eyes open and shot him a hard stare.

"I wasn't able to meet with the second victim," he said. He dropped his chin, his head bowed. "But I was able to meet up with the third."

"When?"

"In New York."

My skin bristled all over, the heat licking through my veins.

"That's why you were there? It wasn't business?"

"I wanted to tell you before I left –"

"Why the hell didn't you!?"

My voice cracked, raising an octave, the force almost blasting him backwards onto his heels.

Tears streamed down my cheeks, uncontrollable.

"Y-You took me out there…" I sniffed. "You said it was business… but it was _her_ …"

"Ana, please –"

He squeezed my calves, trying to hold me steady as I battled to stand up.

I had to move.

The walls. They were getting too close. I could almost feel them on me.

"I was trying to do the right thing," Christian sighed. "Baby, I promise I was going to tell you. I was always going to tell you... Damn it, I was seconds away from actually doing it but we got interrupted and –"

I jumped to my feet.

 _I can't do this._

"I didn't want to dump this on you, out of the fucking blue," he shouted as I began to walk away. "I was thinking about you –"

I paced away from him, sweat trickling down the length of my spine as I shuffled across the rug.

I could feel it building. The burden in my chest.

The lump in my throat was getting bigger.

The sounds –

Crackling. Screaming. Glass shattering.

 _Please, stop…_

"I need you to understand what I was trying to do." Christian's voice was a whisper, barely breaking through the clutter in my mind. "I didn't want to see you get hurt again. I was scared."

"You…"

"I knew it would break us," he said. "The both of us. I knew you couldn't handle this before, but you can now. Ana, I know you can handle this."

I shook my head.

"You're better now. You're so much stronger than you supposed to be."

 _Strong?_

I'm not strong.

I'm falling apart again.

"No, no, no..." I grimaced.

My chest ached as the room continued to shrink, suffocating me.

I pushed my hands up into my hair and tugged at the ends, wishing I could claw into my skull and tear out the panic rising inside.

"Ana, please, just sit down and let me explain?"

I dragged my body towards the bedroom. I staggered, my knees buckling with each step.

Christian's hand captured my elbow, yanking me back into his chest.

"I know you're mad, but please –"

"Let… me… go…" I begged. I sucked in a hard breath but it failed to reach my lungs. "Just let me go."

He sprinted around me and grabbed my face, pinning me in place as he nuzzled his nose to mine.

"I love you," he breathed. "I love you. I love you. I love you."

Too close.

I pressed my hands into his chest and shoved him away from me.

"I can't…" I shook my head again. "I need s-space…"

I wriggled free and my body switched into auto-pilot, taking me into the bedroom.

I slammed the door shut and fell back against it, sliding down the wood until I was in a heap on the floor.

 _Breathe._

 _Take slow breaths._

 _Shut it out._

 _Just focus on breathing._

"We need to talk about this," Christian groaned through the door. "I need to explain properly. Please, just let me explain. It's not what you think, I promise."

 _Fuck, it hurts -_

Right in the centre of my chest. A sharp, stabbing sensation.

I brought my knees up to my torso and hugged them tight, burying my head down against my thighs. I began to rock on the spot, trying to sync my breaths with the swaying.

"Ana, I'm sorry –"

Platinum blonde hair and red lips. Her face was starting to come into focus, her image developing in the forefront of my mind.

 _I'M BACK, ANASTASIA._

"Leave me alone!" I called out.

I slammed back against the door.

"She can't hurt me," I told myself, my teeth chattering through my tears. "She can't hurt me anymore."

I needed to block out the pain and panic.

"She's not real," I whispered. I blew out a long, shaky breath. "Not real… just… just panicking… none of it's real…"


	35. Chapter Thirty Four

**Hello Lovelies,**

 **I hope you're all having a good weekend.**

 **Thank you for the reviews I received on the last chapter. I know some readers were less than impressed with how I chose to write it. However, as I continue to say, if you don't like how I choose to write MY story, I suggest you click on the 'x' in the corner and go write your own.**

 **We're back in Christian's POV for this chapter. Let's find out how he's coping on the other side of the door...**

 **More coming soon!**

 **Much Love,**

 **Chelsea x**

* * *

 **Iamdbomangmail** – Thank you! I'm glad you liked it. I really hope you enjoy this chapter too. Much Love x

 **Isla** – Thank you! Sadly, it isn't something I needed to research as I have previously suffered from panic attacks. I still struggle with anxiety, but it is something I try to keep a handle on as much as possible. I'm very sorry to hear your son is struggling. Sending both of you lots of love. I hope you enjoy this chapter. Much Love x

 **SuzB** – Thank you! Fingers crossed Ana will be able to calm herself down, so they can move forward together. I hope you enjoy this chapter. Much Love x

 **DoloresDeeHowe** – Thank you! I'm glad you liked it. I hope you like this chapter too. Much Love x

 **Paula White** – Thank you! I really hope you enjoy this chapter. Much Love x

 **Camille** – Thank you! Christian was definitely in a catch-22 situation. Poor man. Hopefully all will be well in the end! I hope you like this chapter. Much Love x

* * *

 **To the guest/s annoyed that I am not responding to their reviews – I can only assume you're new to my stories and, therefore, aren't familiar with how I respond to reviews.**

 **I reply privately to those who sign in and leave a review linked to their accounts. I reply to guests who leave a pseudonym at the start of the next chapter. This is the only way I can reply to guests who, for whatever reason, choose not to sign in.**

 **If there isn't a name, number, phrase etc. provided with the review, I have no way of distinguishing individuals and, thus, cannot give a reply. I have no way of knowing if the many reviews I receive from "Guest" have been sent from the same person or not.**

 **If you would like a reply to your comments and wish to continue using the guest review function, please give me a pseudonym and I will happily do so.**

* * *

 **CHRISTIAN**

He stood motionless on the other side of the bedroom door, unsure of what to say or do next. His eyes didn't shift from the wooden panels, his arms hanging limp at his sides.

 _I should have grabbed her, stopped her from running away from me. I should have made her listen._

In all his years, Christian had never felt so deflated or conflicted. Deflated because the love of his life had run away from him, and conflicted because he didn't know whether to barge into the bedroom or give her the space she asked for.

His instinct said to smash the door down and confront her. Make her listen to what he has to say. Make her understand why he didn't tell her sooner.

But Ana didn't want him. She didn't want him anywhere near her.

He had acknowledged the way she flinched when he touched her, the way she shrugged off his hands and leapt from the couch. It had crushed him.

She had only ever reacted that way once before. It was during her stay in hospital, after the fire. She couldn't handle being touched, didn't even like her clothes rubbing against her skin. It was as if she had been scorched by the flames, but there wasn't a single burn or blister on her. Only the restraints left bruises around her wrists and ankles.

It was all in her head. Her anguish was mental, not physical. It always has been.

Christian stepped forward and pressed his hand to the door. He had heard Ana sliding down the door and he could picture her now, slumped on the floor and crying.

He couldn't work out whether it was anger or hatred that was governing her emotions in that moment.

 _Please, let me in…_

He dropped to the floor and slouched against the doorframe. Curling his knees up to his chest, he rested his head against the door and closed his eyes.

"Ana," he whispered. "I'm not going anywhere. I'll stay here all night if I have to."

She didn't reply.

* * *

One hour and thirty-eight minutes had passed and Ana was still in the bedroom. Christian was still on the floor, neither of them having moved an inch.

At least, he didn't think Ana had moved. He had been listening out but had heard nothing from the other side of the door. No crying. No shuffling. Nothing.

It was the silence that was slowly destroying him.

His thoughts were starting to spiral, the reveal playing on a constant loop in his mind. He thought about things he could have worded better, whether he could have ordered it differently, as if that may have helped the conversation run smoother. His mind was awash with what-ifs.

But there was one thing he was particularly torn over.

Should he have told her sooner? Was now the _right moment_ he had been waiting for?

If he had told her about the notebook from the beginning, would things have been easier to deal with? She was already in a shit place, nearing rock bottom. Could this have been just another issue to deal with while tackling everything else?

Or would it have compounded things, made everything ten times worse, as he had worried about and tried to avoid at all costs?

All he wanted was to avoid sending her to the psyche ward. She was dangerously close it to as it was. The shakes, the panic attacks, the nightmares, the fear of loud noises, screaming and fires…

For a while, he thought he had lost her. So when he saw glimpses of the old Ana – his Ana – still in there, he clung onto it with both hands. He was shielding her spark, desperately trying to keep her flame alight. He didn't want her to feel like her whole world was caving in. He had felt that agony before and didn't wish it on anyone, least of all the woman he loved.

 _Maybe I should have told her before New York_ , he thought to himself. _I shouldn't have bottled it like a fucking pussy_.

But how could he tell her and then leave, especially if this is what her reaction would have been? It was hard enough having a plank of wood separating them, 3,000 miles would have been unbearable.

 _Does she regret going to New York now? Have I ruined it for her? Tainted the memories we made?_

He couldn't bring himself to tell her about Elena's notebook while they were in New York. She was so excited, looking forward to enjoying a few days with him and getting the chance to explore a new city. They hadn't spent time like that together since before the fire at Maîtrise. It was a chance for Ana to completely shut down and relax. He wanted her to have that. She needed it.

But, most of all, he wanted just one last weekend with her.

Because there was one thing Christian worried about more than anything, and it was the prospect of Ana leaving him once she found out. It was the thing that made this whole ordeal just that little bit more complicated.

Deep down, he had been readying himself to say goodbye to her. Preparing for the moment she would turn around and tell him she didn't want him anymore. That she couldn't love someone who would hurt her in this way.

 _I can't lose you, baby. Your love is the only thing that keeps me going…_

* * *

Christian was up on his feet and pacing the floor. He couldn't sit still for a moment longer, the entire lower half of his body now painfully numb.

 _For fuck's sake. It's been hours!_

He shuffled along the same five-feet wide patch of floor, occasionally shooting a glance at the door and willing it to open. A short while ago he had heard some movement from inside the bedroom, but Ana had yet to make an appearance.

He had spoken to her frequently, reassuring her that he was still there and waiting for her to re-emerge.

His urge to tear the door off its hinges had dissipated. Now, he couldn't even bring himself to touch the damn thing. It was like an invisible barrier had been raised in front of him.

He let out a long sigh and came to a stop in front of the door. Footsteps sounded behind him, but he didn't need to turn around to know who was approaching. He could tell Taylor's stride from a mile off.

Both Taylor and Mrs Jones had kept out of the way. Christian wasn't stupid. He knew they had probably been listening in and heard everything unfold. It was a wonder they hadn't come out to check on the situation long before now. They cared about Ana almost as much as he did.

"How is she doing?" Taylor grunted as he came to Christian's side. He folded his arms and stared at the closed door.

"She hasn't come out yet," Christian huffed. "She won't talk to me."

"Has she locked herself in there?"

"No, I don't think so. I didn't hear her lock it."

"Have you tried going in to check on her?"

Christian scowled at him.

"I'm being serious," Taylor said, raising a hand in surrender. "If she hasn't locked it, there's nothing stopping you from going in to see how she's doing."

"There is," Christian shook his head. "She couldn't get away from me quick enough. She fucking hates me."

Taylor frowned. "Did she say that?"

"She didn't need to," Christian groaned. He started pacing again, dragging his feet along the floor. "What the fuck have I done? I knew I was in a catch-22 situation but Jesus Christ, everything has gone to fucking shit now… I did everything I could to avoid this from happening. I thought she was ready."

"You had to tell her," Taylor reminded him. "You know you did. It was now or never."

"I've really fucked up…"

There was a hint of a cry brewing in Christian's voice. It was low and weak, but Taylor had noticed it. He had only ever seen his boss cry on two occasions and it wasn't a pretty sight. It was enough to bring tears to the back of Taylor's eyes and he most certainly wasn't a crier.

Christian bowed his head and began rubbing the nape of his neck.

"She didn't even want me to touch her," he muttered. "She pulled away from me."

"It's probably just shock," Taylor tried to soothe him. "Come on, you said yourself there was no way she would ever suspect any of that shit with Lincoln and that stupid book. In which case, this must have hit her like a train."

Christian glanced back at him, searching Taylor's eyes for reassurance.

"Think about how you reacted when Lincoln's attorney called," Taylor said. "It threw you a massive curveball, didn't it?"

He nodded.

"Well, times that by ten and I reckon that's probably where Ana is right about now," Taylor sighed. "I'm sure she'll be fine once she's had time to get her head together. You just need to give her some time."

"How much time?"

"How long is a piece of string?" Taylor shrugged, apologetically. "I wish I could give you an answer, but I can't. But I do know that Ana will be okay."

"How can you be so sure?" Christian grunted, shaking his head. He wasn't convinced there would be a positive outcome from this.

"Because that girl is made of strong stuff," Taylor replied. "Yes, she's had her issues but she's pulling through it. She's made great progress with her therapist."

"But how fucking far have I set her back by dumping this on her now?"

"You need to –"

"I just want her to know that I never wanted this to happen," Christian croaked. He had to bite down on his lip to stop himself from welling up. "I didn't want to upset her. I didn't want to hurt her."

"Ana already knows that. It's a given."

"I wanted to…"

Christian wasn't able to get out the remainder of his sentence.

He didn't have time to process what Taylor was about to do, couldn't prepare himself for the unexpected contact.

He didn't push Taylor away, though. He stood still as Taylor threw his arms around his shoulders and pulled him into his chest.

The magnitude of the moment wasn't lost on either man. Taylor had never overstepped the mark before. He had tapped Christian on the arm, grabbed his elbow when he needed his attention, but he had never dared hug him before. He had always been Christian's employee, his security guard, his driver.

But, in that moment, Taylor knew that Christian needed a friend.

Christian buried his head into Taylor's shoulder and leaned into him. He didn't cry or try to wriggle free.

"She'll come out when she's ready," Taylor promised, patting his large hand against Christian's shoulder. "I know you want to barge in there and say something that'll make this right, but you have to give her space. You have to let her deal with this in her own way."

"I know, but it's so fucking hard."

"It's because you're not in control," Taylor hummed, nodding his head. "You can't control how she deals with this news. You can't control what's going on inside her head right now. All you can control is how you react to her. Okay?"

"What do you mean?"

"Wait to see what she does next and then figure out your move from there," Taylor explained. "Let her take the lead and decide what she wants to do about this."

"What if she wants to leave me?" Christian whispered, the words catching in his throat.

"That won't happen," Taylor sighed. He tightened his hold. "She knows how you feel about her. The kind of love you two have for each other, that shit doesn't grow on trees and it can't be broken this easily. Believe me."

"I want to…"

"Lincoln wasn't able to break either of you while she was alive, the bitch certainly isn't going to do it now she's dead. Just give Ana a bit of time and she'll come back to you."

"You really think that?"

"I know it."

* * *

The penthouse was losing light, the sky beyond the windows starting to melt into deep hues of sapphire and navy. Christian couldn't be bothered to get up and turn on the lights. He didn't really give a damn. There was nothing he wanted to see on this side of the door.

He was back on the floor, propped against the wall. He linked his hands around his knees, his legs tucked up towards his chest. He closed his eyes for a moment. He was about to drift off when he heard something, the noise jolting him wide awake.

The door handle creaked as it was slowly turned.

He yanked his head to the side and felt every nerve in his body sizzle as a sliver of golden light flooded out of the bedroom.

"Christian?"

Ana's voice was barely a whisper and terribly hoarse, but it was a much welcome sound in that moment. Christian could have screamed with relief.

He scrambled to his feet, almost falling over as he came to a halt in the doorway. His heart throbbed as he came toe to toe with Ana.

She seemed paler than usual, the only colour in her face the crude redness framing her eyes. Her gaze was fixed on the floor near his feet, her left hand tightly gripping her cell phone.

As an unsettled feeling worked its way through him, Christian quickly looked beyond Ana and scanned as much of the bedroom as he could see. He was checking for her suitcases and bags, packed and ready to be taken from the apartment.

But there was nothing to see.

No cases. No bags. Nothing out of place.

Even their suitcases from this morning were nowhere to be seen, the bed perfectly made up.

 _She unpacked?_

He frowned, shaking his head lightly.

"Are you okay?" he asked her, drawing his eyes back to her face. She shrugged her shoulders. "You unpacked our things?"

She nodded.

"Why?"

"I had to do something," she muttered. "I organised all of our drawers, too."

He couldn't understand what she was saying, but he was relieved to know she hadn't gone on a complete rampage and torn all of his things to shreds. He could replace his clothes, obviously, but he didn't like the thought of Ana hurting herself in the process. A papercut on her finger felt like a knife had been plunged straight through his chest.

"Do you –"

"I'm going to see Rhian," she said, interrupting him.

"What?"

"Rhian," she repeated. She raised her phone and held it up in front of her. "I called her and she said I can come over. I need to see her."

His chest dropped slightly.

She lifted her eyes from the floor and met his stare. The vacant look she gave him made his knees buckle.

"Can you drive me to her house?" she whispered. "Please?"

He didn't reply, just frantically nodded his head.

If she had asked him to take her to the moon, he would have. Anything. Whatever she wanted, he was prepared to do it.

All that mattered was she was finally out of the bedroom and talking to him. It was a start, at least.

He turned on the spot and rushed around the apartment, trying to find his shoes, jacket and car keys.

Ana shuffled over to the elevators and waited there until he was done. She had already put on her blue converse and denim jacket, her phone still in her hand.

Christian pulled on his leather jacket and tentatively stepped forward, reaching out to place his hand on her arm. She accepted his touch this time, but her eyes closed on a long blink.

"Look at me?" he begged her.

It took her a few seconds to meet his eye again. Her cornflower blues were cloudy with unshed tears.

"I need to talk to Rhian about this," she explained. She shook her head. "I need to see her."

"You don't want to talk to me about it?"

She quickly dropped her eyes again, and Christian felt like kicking himself.

Rhian was probably the best person for Ana to see. Rhian would know exactly the right things to say. If anyone could help put this situation right, it was Dr Rhian Flynn.

Christian pressed for the elevator and held back as Ana entered first. He joined her, but stood a few feet away. His fingers twitched at his sides, wriggling hard and fast, desperately missing the feel of hers.

As the elevator sealed shut, Christian wondered if, when the doors open into the penthouse again, whether Ana would be there with him. Would she ever want to step foot in Escala again, the place she has singlehandedly made a home?

He tilted his chin to Ana and studied her profile. Her expression was relaxed, yet empty of any significant emotion.

"I'm sorry," he rasped. "I didn't want to upset you. I never –"

"I know," she replied meekly.

"You do?"

She nodded once.

"This isn't about you," she added, gulping hard as she closed her eyes again. "I just… I need to talk to Rhian."

His heart twisted. "Ana, you know I love you, don't you?"

"Yes," she nodded again. "And I love you."

Those four words breathed a new lease of life into him, giving him a glimmer of hope to cling on to.

 _She doesn't hate me. She still loves me._


	36. Chapter Thirty Five

**Hello Lovelies,**

 **I hope everyone's having a good weekend.**

 **We're staying in Christian's POV for this chapter. It's time to pay a visit to the Flynns.**

 **More coming soon!**

 **Much Love,**

 **Chelsea x**

* * *

 **Reds77** \- Thank you! It was certainly an emotional chapter to write. I'm glad you liked the moment between Taylor and Christian. I've been looking forward to writing that for a while! :) I hope you enjoy this chapter. Much Love x

 **DoloresDeeHowe** \- Thank you! I'm glad you're enjoying it. I really hope you like this chapter too. Much Love x

 **Emily** \- Thank you! Christian and Ana will definitely thrash it all out and talk about everything, but at first I think they both need some reassurances from the Flynns. Plus, Ana already knows about the widow and her baby - Christian told her about them that same day, he just didn't reveal the full reason as to why he visited them in the first place. :) I hope you like this chapter. Much Love x

 **SuzB** \- Thank you! I'm glad you liked it. I'm sure the Flynns will be able to get through to our favourite couple. I hope you like this chapter! Much Love x

 **Paula** **White** \- Thank you! I think Rhian will be able to work her magic on Ana. I hope you like this chapter. Much Love x

 **MartyHowe** \- Thank you! I'm glad you're enjoying it. I really hope you like this chapter. Much Love x

* * *

 **CHRISTIAN**

Circling his R8, Christian reached the passenger door and opened it wide. He took a small step back to give Ana enough room to climb out.

She gave him a weak smile as she pushed to her feet. It didn't quite reach her eyes, but it was enough. More than enough to pacify some of the doubts niggling in Christian's stomach.

"Shall we?" he asked, gesturing to the house.

He held out his hand and hesitated, cautiously waiting to see if she would take it. He prayed she would accept his offer.

"Ana?"

She stared at his fingers for a second too long, before finally sliding her cold hand into his.

Christian's heart jumped at the contact. Her touch was like an electric current firing through his entire body, a shiver that coursed from the top of his head to the soles of his feet.

They slowly made their way along the narrow path that led to the Flynn household. Stepping up onto the cobbled porch, they each came to a standstill, neither of them ready to press the doorbell.

"I wasn't trying to hide anything from you. Not really," Christian whispered, gulping hard as he lowered his chin to look at her. "I was trying to protect you, that's all. I was always going to tell you."

Ana nodded but said nothing.

She reached out and rang the doorbell.

The door was quickly answered, Dr Rhian Flynn appearing on the other side with her wide and welcoming smile firmly on display. She was dressed down in navy sweatpants and a grey t-shirt, her black hair piled into a bun on the top of her head.

"I'm so sorry for disturbing you," Ana quickly apologised, shaking her head as she met her therapist's eye.

"Don't be silly," Rhian said, shuffling backwards to give them room to enter. Once they were safely inside, she quietly closed the door. "This is what I'm here for. I told you – anytime you need me, all you have to do is call."

Rhian held out her hand and stroked the top of Ana's arm, her smile dropping slightly and revealing a more serious expression. She was worried about her patient. It was evident in her eyes.

"Why don't you go on into my study and get comfy, huh?" she suggested. "I'll be right behind you."

Ana glanced up at Christian and he gave her a tight nod, as if to tell her it was okay to leave him. In all actuality, it was far from okay. Christian wanted to go inside the room with her. He didn't want to let go of her hand, but he knew she needed this. Even if he didn't fully understand why she couldn't just talk to him.

He watched as she tore her hand from his and sluggishly ambled down the hall, heading straight for the room at the far end. She dipped into Rhian's study, leaving the door ajar. She took a seat on the couch facing the doorway, her head instantly falling into her hands as she rested her elbows on her knees.

"I take it she explained what happened?" Christian muttered to Rhian, his eyes remaining on Ana.

"Kind of," Rhian hummed. She folded her arms under her chest. "She was fairly incoherent on the phone at first, but I got the gist of what she was saying. Once she calmed down, I understood her a bit better."

"Right."

"You know, it might have been a good idea to tell me what you were planning to do before you did it," she added. Christian shot her a stern glance and she shrugged her shoulders. "I could have been there to help you. The both of you."

"I didn't think she would need help," he grumbled. "She's better now. She's been doing great recently. Everyone knows it, but she had a complete meltdown and –"

"I'd hardly call having a panic attack a _complete meltdown_ ," Rhian sighed.

"What?"

Rhian frowned at the shock on Christian's face. She tilted her head to the side, unsure of what was going on.

"She was having a panic attack?" he questioned, his eyes widening.

"You didn't know…?"

He shook his head and returned his attention to Ana.

If the ground could have opened up under his feet, Christian would have happily jumped in.

 _For fuck's sake._

 _Why the hell didn't I use my fucking brain?_

 _She was freaking out._

 _She wasn't angry, you stupid fuck. She was panicking!_

"It all happened so fast," he groaned, guilt seeping into his voice and making it sound even more constricted and hoarse than it already did. "I just thought she was mad at me."

"She was scared. It caught her off guard."

"Why did she run away? She's always come to me when she's had panic attacks before."

Rhian shrugged again.

"All Ana said was that she realised she was going into a panic attack and she knew she needed to calm down," she explained. "It came as a massive shock to her, hearing you talking about Elena Lincoln so frankly and openly again. She didn't have time to prepare for it."

"Fuck. I've just set her back a hundred paces, haven't I?" he worried, exhaling a long and anguished sigh. "What the hell have I done?"

"Hey –" Rhian stepped forward and set her hand on his arm. "Don't jump the gun, yeah? I need to talk to her but, for what it's worth, I think this is just a blip. She's confused and struggling to process what's happened. Let us talk it over and see if we can make sense of how she's feeling."

"She ran away from me," he whispered. "That really hurt."

"I don't think it was you she was running from," Rhian replied softly. She gave his arm a gentle rub and then began making her way towards the study. "John's putting the twins in bed. He'll be down in a minute. In the meantime, get something to drink and make yourself at home."

He stared after her as she disappeared into the study. He was able to steal another glimpse of Ana before the door was shut, and every part of him was churning over the fact he had missed the warning signs.

He had promised that whenever she needed comforting or propping up, he would be right there beside her.

 _I completely missed it._

 _I've failed her._

* * *

Christian stood at the kitchen counter, staring at the ancient coffee maker and wondering how the hell it was still a fully functioning machine. The thing was probably as old as him with its yellowing plastic, worn off labels and bulky framework.

If he wasn't driving, he would have ditched the coffee and grabbed the Scotch John hides in the top cabinet, well away from the children's wandering hands.

He reached up into said cabinet to pull out a mug, but his hand stalled as a small cough filled the room.

Jumping out of his skin, Christian spun on the spot and was surprised to find a tiny person in bright pink pyjamas facing him.

Harriet Flynn gazed up at him with her enormous blue eyes, her dark hair messily scraped back into a ponytail.

"Aren't you supposed to be in bed?" he asked, frowning at her. His eyes scanned her from head to toe, as if trying to decipher why she was standing there. "Does your dad know you're down here?"

Harriet shook her head.

"Do you need something?"

"I'm thirsty," she nodded.

"Right. Thirsty," Christian hummed. He turned around again and checked the cabinets, looking for a glass. "Um… do you want some water?"

"Yes, pleeeaassse," she replied, her voice full of sweetness and light. "I want the green cup."

Christian glanced back at her and saw her pointing towards the bottom shelf of the cabinet. He reached for the green cup and saw her smile, confirming it was the right choice.

He half-filled the cup with water and shuffled over to where Harriet was standing. Kneeling down in front of her, he carefully handed her the cup.

She slurped the water until the cup was empty, offering him a wide grin when she was done.

"Thank you," she nodded again.

"You're welcome," he said, taking the cup back and sliding it onto the countertop. He didn't bother standing up, preferring to remain at her height. "Now, then, you should –"

"Why are you here?" she interrupted him, tilting her head to side. She looked exactly like her mother when she did that.

"I brought Ana to see your mom," he explained. "Ana needed to talk to her."

"Why did Ana need to see my mummy? It's bed time."

He pressed his lips together. "Um, well, Ana was upset and your mom really helps Ana when she's feeling sad."

"Why was Ana sad?"

He shrugged his shoulders.

How could he possibly explain what had happened to a four-year-old?

"Did you make her sad?" Harriet whispered, leaning forward to bring her face closer to his.

Christian raised his eyes to hers, finding a delightfully innocent expression spreading over her entire face. He wished he could bottle up that kind of naivety. It would make his life a heck of a lot easier if he could inject some of her lightness into himself.

"I did," he admitted. "But I didn't mean to make her sad."

"Did you say sorry?"

"Yes."

"It will be okay," she nodded. She showed him her toothy grin. Since the last time he had seen her, Harriet had lost one of her bottom teeth. "Mummy says if you say sorry it makes everything better. Sorry is the best thing you can say to someone. It's the magic word."

He snorted a laugh.

"Your mom is a very clever woman," he chuckled. "And you sound just like her sometimes."

Harriet continued to grin at him, her slightly reddened eyes twinkling.

"Do you like my cat?" she asked.

"Your cat?"

He quickly scanned the floor.

 _Since when do they have a fucking cat?_

"My drawing," she prompted him. "I gave it to Ana."

"Oh, yeah," he sighed.

 _That cat._

 _The one that actually looks like a dragon._

"Yes, I did like it. It was lovely, thank you."

Her grin somehow stretched even higher. "Ana said she was going to show you."

"It's hanging up on our refrigerator," he said. She practically fizzed with excitement upon hearing that. "It's a beautiful picture."

"I love cats," she declared. "I really want a cat but Daddy said no."

Her sweet face fell in an instant, disappointment twisting at her cherubic features. It made Christian's chest ache, seeing her so upset.

"Christian?"

"Yes?"

"Will you buy me a cat?" she asked as she fiddled with the hem of her t-shirt.

"Huh?" he jerked his head back.

"A cat? Can I have one?"

"I'm not sure that would be a good idea, Harriet."

"Why not?"

"Because I don't want to make your dad angry," he answered. "And I don't think he wants a cat."

 _Jesus, I can't afford to piss Flynn off._

 _He's the only fucker who has ever listened to me and my bullshit and not tried to force that CBT crap down my throat…_

Harriet pouted her lips and folded her arms, her chin starting to wobble.

 _Oh shit._

 _Don't cry. Don't cry. Don't cry._

"Erm…" he hummed. "What if I buy you a toy cat? A stuffed one?"

She raised her watery eyes.

"Like a teddy bear?" she sniffed.

"Yes! Exactly like a teddy bear," Christian nodded. "Would that make you happy?"

She pondered his suggestion for an eternity, staring him out. Eventually, however, she nodded and her smile slipped back into place.

 _Thank fuck for that!_

"Can I have a black and white one?"

"You can have whatever you want," he sighed with relief.

"And can it have a pink collar? And be really, really, really fluffy?"

"Absolutely."

He had no idea where the hell he was going to find a stuffed cat, but he would go to the ends of the world to get exactly what she wanted. He was just glad she didn't burst into tears. That really would have finished him off.

Harriet let out a yawn, exhaustion twisting and jerking her tiny body, her mouth opening wide.

"You should go back to bed," he told her.

"Can you carry me?" she muttered, sleepily.

Before he could even respond, she had shuffled forward and thrown her arms around his shoulders. She climbed onto his lap, her legs securing around his chest as her head settled on his right shoulder.

Christian didn't move for a few seconds, frozen to the spot.

But after taking a deep breath he slowly rose to his feet, his hands pressed firmly into her back to help keep her in place.

She had moulded herself perfectly to his body, as if he had been designed to carry her around. She felt warm and surprisingly heavy in his arms.

He could remember when Harriet was born.

She was a few weeks old when he was first introduced to her, Rhian turning up at the office as Christian was leaving one of his sessions with John. He had peeked into the stroller out of courtesy, not genuine interest, but had been intrigued by the tiny baby wrapped up in white and pink blankets. Sensing his curiosity, Rhian had asked if he wanted to hold Harriet but Christian had flatly refused. He wasn't able to stomach anyone touching him back then, and he would rather have jumped out of the window than hold a baby.

What if he freaked out and dropped her? No. He could never forgive himself if he hurt a child, even if it was an accident.

But now, holding the much bigger Harriet, he wondered why he hadn't done this before. He had seen the Flynn children every week for the past five years, yet he had always kept them at arm's length.

 _Why was I so scared of them? They're just kids._

He carefully carried Harriet through the hall and turned the corner to climb the staircase. He reached the bottom stair when he saw John making his way down.

"Not a word," he grumbled to his therapist, who had a large smirk on his face.

"Just another girl who seemingly has you wrapped around her little finger," John mused. He pressed against the wall to give Christian room to pass, his hand reaching out to stroke the back of his daughter's head. "Her bedroom is on the left, opposite the bathroom."

Christian climbed the rest of the stairs and entered Harriet's room. It was a chaotic space crammed to the brim with teddies and dolls, everything pink or purple. The covers on her bed were strewn all over the floor.

He gently laid her down and began picking up the sheets, ready to tuck her in. Harriet lifted her arms so he could wrap the comforter around her, her tired eyes barely open now.

"Will you be here when I wake up?" she asked, another yawn breaking through her words.

He crouched beside her bed.

"No, I won't," he shook his head. "But I'll be back soon."

"When?"

"In a couple days? I'm not sure," he shrugged. "But soon."

"Promise?"

"I promise," he nodded.

"Will you bring my cat with you?"

His lips rose into a smile.

"Next time I come over, I will bring your cat," he confirmed. "Black and white, extra fluffy, with a pink collar. Right?"

"Thank you," she beamed back at him.

He studied her face for a moment longer before he stood up. He pointed to the lamp next to her bed.

"Do you want the light on or off?"

"On!" she blurted, her eyes opening wide. "I need it on!"

Christian's brow furrowed.

"Harriet, are you scared of the dark?" he wondered.

"Noooo…" she shook her head. She lowered her voice. "It's the monsters under my bed."

"You're scared of the monsters under your bed?"

Christian immediately thought of Mia. She had gone through a similar phase when she was about Harriet's age.

Mia had been terrified of the 'monsters' in her closet. What had started as a fairly innocent but cruel prank by Elliot, quickly turned out to be something impossible to shake off. She wouldn't go to sleep unless the lights were on, and even then she would often wake up screaming in the middle of the night. Christian's bedroom was the closest to Mia's, so he was always the first to get to her if she was having a nightmare.

He smiled now as he thought of the many nights he would run into her room and comfort her, telling her there was nothing to be scared of. Occasionally, he would go 'monster-hunting' just to prove she was safe.

He used to tell her that the real monsters in the world don't hide in closets or lurk in the shadows. They hide in plain sight.

Harriet shook her head at him.

"No, I like the monsters," she proudly announced. "They're my friends. But they are scared of the dark, so I have to keep the lights on for them. I don't want them to be scared."

The warmth that penetrated Christian's chest in that moment was like nothing else he had ever experienced. It felt like his heart had grown three times as big, the pressure in his ribs almost painful.

"Goodnight, Harriet."

"Night night, Uncle Christian."

Quietly closing her bedroom door behind him, Christian let out a hard sigh and flopped his head back against the wood.

 _I hope one day I have a daughter who wants to be friends with the monsters under her bed…_

* * *

Finally making his way downstairs, Christian dropped to the bottom step. His body sagged forward as he sat down, his hands cupping his face, his elbows digging into his knees.

"So, what's brought you here tonight?"

Christian raised his head and found John hovering in front of him, propped against the wall opposite.

"Thought I'd come over and play nanny," he quipped.

John waited, knowing better than to respond to Christian's sarcasm. It got him nowhere and, in the end, wasted time was a thing John hated more than anything. Life was too short as it was.

Christian inhaled a deep breath and leaned back against the stairs.

"I told her."

"About the notebook?"

"Yes."

John flicked a look down the hall, checking his wife's study. The door was still closed and he knew she must be in there with Ana, unpicking the day's events and revelations. He didn't envy her in the slightest.

"And I'm guessing Ana didn't take it well?"

"What the fuck do you think?" Christian snapped. "Oh yeah, she's walking on fucking sunshine right now. It made her day."

John arched his brow and folded his arms.

"She had a fucking panic attack and I didn't even realise what was happening," Christian grumbled, his head sinking into his hands again.

"What do you mean, you didn't realise what was happening?"

"I didn't know she was having a panic attack."

"What happened?"

"I told her. She freaked out and ran away from me. She shut herself in the bedroom and wouldn't come out. She was in there for hours."

"And you saw no signs that she was going into a panic attack?"

Christian shook his head. "She clammed up and ran. In the past, when she's had them, she would freeze and start hyperventilating. I always had time to get to her."

"Not every panic attack is the same," John said. "The symptoms can vary between people, but also between each attack. Just because she displayed those symptoms before, it doesn't mean she'll have them every time."

"Really?"

John nodded.

"Why did she run from me?"

"Have you asked her that?"

Christian shook his head.

"Perhaps her fight, flight or freeze kicked in and this time it was flight that won out," John shrugged. "You said she ran away and locked herself in the bedroom?"

"Yes."

"But she eventually came out, didn't she?"

"We wouldn't be here otherwise," Christian huffed, rolling his eyes.

"No, I mean she came out of the bedroom and spoke to you?"

"She asked me to drive her here."

"Good."

"Good?" Christian frowned. "What's good about any of this?"

"Don't you think that's a reassuring sign? She made the choice to come out of the bedroom and speak to you. What do you think that suggests?"

"That she needed a ride? Her new car hasn't been delivered yet."

John cocked his head to the side. Sometimes he wished he could just knock some sense and logic into Christian's head.

"What did you and her talk about on your way here?"

"Nothing," Christian shrugged. "Before we left the apartment, I told her I was sorry and that I love her."

"Did she say anything in return?"

"She said she loves me."

John frowned hard. "Then why on Earth do you have the face of a man who's world has fallen apart?"

"Because…"

"Because, what?"

"Because I'm scared she's going to leave me," Christian admitted with a small sigh. He shook his head. "I've turned her whole world upside down again, probably pushing her back in her recovery… and I didn't even realise she was having a panic attack. I wasn't there for her."

"What makes you think Ana wanted you there for her?"

"Huh?" he scowled.

"She ran," John said. "Presumably, she managed to calm herself down. Do you think there's a chance she wanted to do it by herself this time?"

"But she's always come to me before -"

"And she's in recovery," John reminded him. "She's starting to find her confidence again. Learning to stand on her own two feet. Sometimes that will involve tackling things by herself."

"So you're telling me she doesn't need me anymore?"

"It doesn't mean she doesn't need you, it means she is getting stronger. Isn't that what you want?"

"You know it is."

"Then why are you scared of her running away in order to calm herself down?"

"I've just told you why."

"No, you haven't," John countered. "You're skirting around it."

Christian exhaled a low sigh. He shook his head.

"I know the answer. You know the answer," John added. "You need to admit it to yourself. Your fear is Ana leaving you, of her not needing you. You're scared she is going to leave you. Aren't you?"

Christian bowed his head, hiding his face from his therapist.

"We've spoken about this before," John muttered. He moved over to Christian and sat down next to him. "It's just your abandonment issues coming into play. You're worrying about losing the people you care about the most."

"I'm always waiting for it to end," Christian grumbled under his breath. "I feel like it's too good to be true. That I can't possibly stay this happy forever."

"Do you feel like Ana is too good for you? Like you don't deserve her?"

"I know I don't deserve her," he nodded. "I'm constantly waiting for that day when she'll come to her senses and realise I'm not worth all this bullshit."

"Does it feel like there are any stipulations on Ana's love for you?"

"What do you mean?"

"Do you think she only loves you for shallow reasons? That she loves your money or that it's only the physical aspect of the relationship she is into?"

"No," Christian quickly shook his head. "No, she loves me. She doesn't care about money or any of that shit. She loves me for who I am."

John nudged Christian's arm, forcing him to look at him.

"So why are you insinuating that her love is fragile or untrustworthy?" he asked. "Because that's what you're implying when you constantly question it. It suggests that you don't actually believe her when she tells you she loves you."

"No… I do believe her."

"Do you think she's ever lied to you when she's said those words?"

"No. Never."

"Why do you question it then?"

Christian pressed his lips together. "I'm not questioning if she loves me," he shook his head. "It's more about why she loves me in the first place. I don't know what she sees in me. I'm a mess. My life is a fucking mess. And my past…"

He trailed off, huffing to himself.

"You know, she probably doesn't know what you see in her either," John hummed. "I certainly feel that way towards Rhian. Even after all of these years, I still don't understand why she is with me. She's out of my league by a mile."

"Really?" Christian frowned. "You think that?"

"Every morning I wake up and count my lucky stars," John smiled. "Christian, it happens to the best of us. It's natural to question what others see in us because, on some level, we're all a bit self-deprecating. We only see the worst in ourselves. But what you need to do is not let those feelings or thoughts eat away at you. It's okay to count your lucky stars, but it's not okay to spend your life waiting for something bad to happen."

"I'm used to bad stuff happening," Christian groaned. "That's my normal… This is still so new to me. It doesn't feel real most of the time."

"A lot has happened in a short space of time," John agreed. "But in time you'll realise that you can relax and enjoy it. That it isn't going to fall apart at your feet."

"I know I'm lucky to have my family and my health and my career, but Ana… she's everything to me. She's my entire world." He bowed his head again. "I can't lose her."

John paused for a moment, changing tactic.

"Her reaction when you told her about the notebook, do you think it was you who triggered the panic attack or was it Elena Lincoln?"

"What do you mean?" Christian grimaced. "Of course it was me. I was the one who told her. I triggered it."

"You were the messenger, not the perpetrator," John said. "She doesn't like thinking about Elena, does she? That's the crux of the problem, isn't it?"

Christian shrugged. "She hasn't been able to even say Elena's name since the fire."

"Self-preservation. Putting a lid on it to save herself from having to deal with it in the moment," John hummed to himself. "And it's understandable. That woman tried to kill her, after all."

"I hate that I had to tell her," Christian grumbled. "I hate that this is what it's done to her."

"I dare say that, at some point, something would have come along to resurface everything for her anyway. There's only so long a person can bury their head in the sand," John replied. "Granted, hearing about the book was probably like a bomb going off right in front of her. It's hardly an easy thing to find out."

"I know that Elena's the problem," Christian finally admitted. "I know she's the one who has caused all of this, but I'm scared Ana will lump me and that bitch together."

"You think that in order for her to purge herself of Elena, she'll want to get rid of you too?"

Christian nodded.

"I sincerely doubt that'll happen," John shook his head. "After all, her feelings towards Elena are based on anger, hatred and fear. Her feelings for you stem from love. That's the fundamental difference."

Christian absorbed his words and sat quietly for a moment, his eyes fixing on a small patch of the emerald green carpet.

"Tell me something," John urged, nudging Christian's elbow again. "Tell me about the moment you realised you were falling in love with Ana."

"Why?"

"Humour me?" John shrugged.

Christian pursed his lips.

"I knew she was different from the moment I first laid eyes on her," he revealed. "But I think I knew I was falling for her the first time we slept together. Both in the figurative and literal sense of the word."

"You shared your bed with her," John nodded, already knowing this story. "What happened that night?"

"I had to go to Maîtrise for something and she was working late," Christian began, plucking the memory from his mind. "I tried to get her quit, I didn't want her working there anymore. I had tried to keep my distance but it was hard. She stayed behind after her shift and we talked. I told her about the playrooms. Told her who I was, what I was looking for. We went back to my place and… well, I don't need to spell it out, do I? The inevitable happened."

"In your bedroom?"

Christian nodded.

"Was there any hesitation about taking her into your bedroom?"

"No," Christian shook his head. "It was instinct. It felt natural."

"And the inevitable? Did you make love or was it just sex?"

"At the time I thought it was sex," he shrugged. "But looking back, it was love. It was perfect."

"And you slept beside her? Was that a conscious decision?"

"No. I didn't even remember falling asleep. I woke up and saw her lying beside me."

"How did you feel?"

"Confused," he admitted. "But happy. I was glad she was there."

"What did you do when you saw her lying there?"

"I watched her sleep. I didn't want to move."

"Do you remember what you were thinking about, when you were watching her sleep?"

"I thought about how beautiful she was," he replied. "I thought I must have been fucking insane for overstepping the mark with her… But, above all, I thought about how I would have happily stayed exactly in that spot for the rest of my life."

"And in that moment did you know you would need to fight for her? That you would need to fight to make it work between you and her?"

"I didn't know what it was between us –"

"But you knew you wanted more?"

"Yes."

"And you were prepared to do anything to keep her in your life, in whatever capacity you could have her?"

"I liked the way I felt when I was with her," Christian nodded. "I still do."

"Interesting," John hummed.

Christian paused, turning his chin towards his therapist, trying to figure out the expression on his face.

"Why are you asking me about that?"

"Oh, no particular reason," John smirked, shaking his head lightly. "Just figured it might give you some food for thought."

Before Christian could question him further, John stood up and began walking away.

"I'll make us both some coffee," he announced, heading for the kitchen. "I've got some chocolate chip cookies hidden somewhere. Do you fancy one?"

Christian stared after John, frowning as he watched him dip around the corner and move out of view.

He didn't always understand John's methods, but he trusted him enough to know everything he said was for a reason and had a purpose.

Picking himself up from the stairs, Christian groaned as he rose and followed John into the kitchen. He paused at the door, his eyes drifting momentarily to Rhian's study.

"What are you hovering over there for?" John called, jerking Christian's attention back to him. "A watched pot never boils, you know."

"I fucking hate that phrase," he grumbled back.

"I know," John smiled. "Come on. Leave them to it. Rhian knows what she's doing."

Christian dragged his body into the kitchen and he dropped onto one of the stools, snatching a cookie from the plate John had set down.

"Feeling better?" John asked as he watched Christian chomping through the cookie.

"A cookie isn't going to solve all my problems," he retorted.

"Maybe not," John smirked again. "But talking certainly will."

Christian rolled his eyes and stole another cookie.

He had never been a fan of talking, but Ana had a way of bringing out the words he preferred to keep to himself. She brought out the positive in him.

And, at some point in the near future, he knew he would need to dig deep and find his voice in order to answer whatever questions she needed answering.

Because he knew she would have questions. Millions of them. She would push through whatever panic had enveloped her. She was a tough cookie. The toughest Christian had ever had the privilege of meeting.

 _Ana can survive this. Both of us can._


	37. Chapter Thirty Six

**Hello Everyone,**

 **Please bear with me as this might be a fairly long A/N. Those of you who know me on Facebook have probably already heard this, so apologies for the repetition.**

 **As you'll no doubt be aware, it's been a while since I last posted. Up until recently, I had prided myself on keeping to regular updates and I had no intention of taking a step back from writing or uploading. Yes, it's been a crazy year for me with a lot of family and personal problems but I've been coping. Or rather I thought I was. I realise now that I was just suppressing my emotions and pretending like everything was okay.**

 **Over the past 6 weeks I've been struggling with crippling anxiety and panic attacks. On July 8th I had a massive panic attack, completely out of the blue, that resulted in an ambulance being called. I was terrified and since then I've been back and forth to see my doctor a dozen times. I feel like I see my doctor more than my own family these days! That panic attack was like opening Pandora's box.**

 **I've had bouts of anxiety for years, but I've never experienced it like this before. It has been debilitating. Some days I find it hard to even get out of bed because of the intense physical feelings I'm getting. And I've lost count of the number of panic attacks I've had whilst out shopping or running errands.**

 **(The irony isn't lost on me, by the way, considering I've been writing about Ana having panic attacks... I think this might be a case of life imitating art?)**

 **I am on medication now and I'm starting therapy next week. I have family and friends - both in real life and those I've made through this wonderful online community - who are incredibly supportive. Speaking out was the hardest thing I've done, but I know it'll also be the best decision I ever made. Don't do what I did and bottle up your problems. It doesn't work. Trust me.**

 **I'm not giving up on this story or stopping writing altogether - as I hope this update will prove - but I am slowing down a bit whilst I try to find my feet again. My confidence has been severely knocked through this ordeal and, to be honest, I'm scared to post this chapter. I'm worried it isn't my usual quality. But I have to get back on the horse sometime, right?**

 **Thank you for sticking with me. I promise I'll be back as soon as I can.**

 **Much Love,**

 **Chelsea x**

* * *

It felt like I had been hit by a fifty-ton truck and dragged along the road for miles, then dumped in a layby and stomped on by a herd of elephants.

My body and brain were battered and sore beyond comparison, the remnants of my earlier panic attack still lingering in my muscles and thoughts. It had been weeks since my last attack and I foolishly thought I had seen the last of them. I thought I was getting over it.

But, then, I never anticipated what Christian had to tell me this morning.

I never, not in a million years, would have thought of _that_ piece of news.

I left Rhian's study over two hours after I had first entered, unable to continue for a minute longer. Sessions were always draining but tonight especially so. I was exhausted, desperate to curl into a ball and slip into unconsciousness. To put an end to the day.

Shuffling down the hall, I came to a stop outside the kitchen and peeked inside, hearing deep and low voices. Flynn was leaning against the cabinets lining the far wall, whilst Christian was slumped in a stool with his back to the door.

Flynn mumbled something under his breath as he raised his eyes to me. He gave me a soft smile but I couldn't muster the energy to return it.

I moved forward, closing the gap between me and Christian. He didn't hear me, didn't even react to my presence until I raised my hand and dropped it on his shoulder.

He yanked his head to the side, practically throwing himself off the stool as he clambered to his feet. He stood over me, staring, his stormy grey eyes wide with concern.

"Are you –"

"I'm ready to leave now," I said, interrupting him. My voice sounded strange, too hoarse to be my own. The mix of talking and crying to Rhian had done my throat no favours. "If that's okay with you?"

"Of course! Yes. Whatever you want."

His throat bobbed as he took a second to study me from head to toe. Something flickered through his expression, something I couldn't quite grasp or describe. It made my stomach tense up.

He glanced over to Flynn. The two men shared a weak smile and a single nod before Christian stepped around me, leading the way out of the kitchen.

Rhian was already by the front door, ready to show us out. I apologised again for disturbing her evening. I hadn't planned on forcing myself on her, but I didn't know who else to turn to. I hadn't just panicked about what Christian told me – I panicked about panicking. The suddenness of it. The intensity. The images that started to flood my mind…

It was all too much and I couldn't handle it. I wasn't in control of my own mind.

Something told me to call Rhian. It was instinctive, as if my body knew exactly what I needed, my fingers dialling her number and lifting the phone to my ear before I even realised what I was doing.

Rhian has always helped me make sense of things. She has a way of turning the irrational into the logical, stripping away fear in the process. I didn't understand how she did it, but I knew I could turn to her for advice.

And, tonight, she helped me decide my next move.

She helped me realise what I need to do in order to finally move on with my life.

I was leaving her house with a plan and whilst I was apprehensive and more than a little scared about it, I knew it was what I had to do.

There was no other option. I didn't have a choice anymore.

I have to face my fear. No matter how painful and gut-wrenching it might be. For both me and Christian.

"Come here," Rhian hummed, opening her arms wide. I stepped into her embrace, welcoming her warmth and kindness. "You're going to be okay. Like I said, this was just a blip. A tiny bump in the road."

"I know," I nodded shyly. "Thank you again."

"It's what I'm here for."

"Can I call you tomorrow?"

"I'll be annoyed if you don't," she chuckled. She kissed my cheek before breaking out of our hug. "You know I'm always here for you. Any time, any day."

I nodded my gratitude and edged out onto the porch.

I closed my eyes for a second, letting the unexpected chill in the air wash over me. There was a heady breeze whipping around my face, making my sticky, tear-stained cheeks sting.

Quietly, I made my way down to the car and let myself into the passenger seat. I buckled up and looked back at the house, seeing Christian still on the porch with Rhian. They were talking to each other.

Their conversation was brief, lasting just a few seconds, before Christian jogged down the path and hopped in beside me.

He gulped, his throat bobbing hard.

"Do you want to go home?" he muttered. His eyes were fixed on the centre of the steering wheel. "Back to Escala, I mean?"

"Where else would we go?"

He stilled, then turned on the engine and drove us away from the sidewalk.

* * *

The elevator doors pulled apart with a whoosh and I was immediately engulfed by warm, golden lights as I dragged myself back into the apartment.

Christian had been silent for the entire ride home. It was unnerving, my skin prickling. Each time I had risked a glance at him, I saw his knuckles translucent from gripping the wheel so tight, his jaw clenching equally as hard.

Perhaps he had sensed my exhaustion and wanted to give me some quiet time.

Or maybe he just didn't know what to say…

I had so many questions I wanted to ask him, but I didn't know where to begin.

I lifted a hand to my temple and rubbed at the pain pulsating there, a constant throb that had been bugging me all day.

Christian dropped his keys onto the sideboard and slowly rounded me, coming to a halt a foot or so away. His gaze roamed my face, focusing on my hand.

"Do you need some Advil?" he asked.

I shook my head. Somehow, I didn't think a couple of pills would make a blind bit of difference.

"May I?"

He gestured to my jacket, his hesitant fingers already reaching for the collar. I nodded and edged forward, turning on the spot so he could slip the material from my shoulders and down my arms.

He folded my jacket and carefully placed it on the sideboard. He came back to me and crouched down, reaching down to my shoes. Hunching forward, he made a start on unlacing my converse. He was gentle and slow with his movements, fussing over me in that way he always does.

I knew it was more for his benefit than mine.

We had spent most of the day apart, separated by a plank of wood. There has never been any real distance between us - literal or figurative - our relationship always rock-solid and unbreakable.

He needed to touch me. Reconnect.

Standing up, he held my shoes in his hand and tentatively raised his eyes to meet mine. A small, shy smile appeared on his lips.

"Are you hungry?"

I shook my head again.

He frowned. "But you haven't eaten since this morning."

"I just want to go to bed," I shrugged. "I'm tired."

I could see his mind starting to race, his lips parting and ready to pester me into eating.

But no soon as that look crept over his face, it disappeared. He inhaled a slow breath and dropped his shoulders, giving up the fight before it even began.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered. "Please, let me explain things properly. I can –"

I held up my palm to silence him.

"I know we need to talk," I gulped, shaking my head. "But I can't handle it right now. My head hurts, my whole body is aching, I'm tired, and all I really want is for today to be over."

He stared at me. His eyes rounded and started to turn glassy.

"I understand," he muttered, nodding once.

I wasn't sure if he did. Do I even understand how I'm feeling right now?

 _All of this… It's such a mess…_

I shuffled across to the bedroom and paused in the doorway. I shivered at the silence that swam around me.

Glancing over my shoulder, I saw Christian still in the exact spot by the elevators. Still holding my shoes, his eyes the only part of him moving. They flickered between me and the floor.

"Aren't you coming?" I asked, my brows lowering around my eyes.

"Do you want me in there with you?"

His question caught me off guard, jolting me on the spot. My frown deepened.

"I can sleep upstairs, if you want to be alone," he shrugged. "I totally understand if you don't want me in there."

"No," I shook my head. "No, I… You should be in here. This is your bedroom too."

 _I want you in there._

 _I need you with me._

His eyes lit up and his throat bobbed.

"Thank you," he hummed.

* * *

The sleep I so desperately craved was short lived. I woke up after a few hours, unable to drift off again because of the relentless whirling in my mind. It was like white noise. An annoying, unintelligible sound that wouldn't shut up.

I crawled out of bed at 2:30am.

Christian was fast asleep beside me, facing my side of the bed, his hand resting in the space between his pillow and mine. I could have laid there watching him, but I didn't want to risk disturbing him. There was no point the both of us being wide awake and restless.

I padded down to the kitchen and rummaged through the freezer, finding the tub of Ben & Jerry's I had stashed in the back for emergencies. Living with Kate for so many years had taught me one thing: you must have ice-cream on standby, for those moments when it feels like the entire world has caved in around you and only Uncle Ben and Uncle Jerry can make you feel better.

This was definitely one of those moments.

I wound up in the television room, my knees tucked into my chest, watching a movie from the subscription service Christian insisted we needed yet rarely used. We're not huge TV watchers anyway, normally partaking in more physical activities of the bedroom kind.

I was a third of the way through the ice-cream when I heard racing footsteps out in the hall. Fast, heavy, and punctured by hard breaths.

Rolling my head against the back of the couch, I watched as Christian sprinted past the doorway.

"I'm in here!" I called out.

He quickly retraced his steps, slamming to a halt with both hands on the doorframe. He bowed his head as he blew out a loud sigh.

"I woke up and you were gone," he shook his head. His voice was shaky with panic. "I didn't know where you were."

"I couldn't sleep," I shrugged. I lifted the tub of ice-cream. "And I was hungry."

He nodded but didn't move from the door.

I reached down next to me and picked up the spare spoon I had brought in, my own still plunged deep into the tub.

"Want to share it with me?" I asked.

The corner of his mouth twitched, rising into a weak smile. He shuffled into the room and flopped down beside me, taking the spoon and helping himself to a mouthful of Cookie Dough.

"Why did you get two?" he wondered, his eyes passing between his spoon and mine.

"I knew you'd wake up and come looking for me," I explained. I let out a low snort. "And I know you would never turn down some ice-cream."

"That's true," he hummed in agreement.

Part of the reason I had to hide the tub at the back of the freezer was because I knew he would eat all of it. Ice-cream, chocolate, cookies… I can often find him snacking in the kitchen, filling up on the sweet stuff.

I paused the movie I had been watching, the room suddenly swamped with an uncomfortable, cold silence.

"Do you hate me?" Christian mumbled before quickly shovelling another spoonful into his mouth.

"No," I sighed. "No, I don't hate you."

"Are you mad at me, then?"

I inhaled a deep breath.

"I'm mad at everything right now," I replied. "But I'm not just mad. I'm confused and scared and exhausted and… It's like sensory overload in my brain right now. There's too much going on."

He nodded, but didn't say anything in return.

"Why didn't you tell me sooner?" I asked, jumping in for some much-needed clarity on the situation. The question had been plaguing me for a few hours. "Why did you keep it from me? Truthfully?"

"I already told you," he said. "I wanted to protect you. You were really struggling when I found out and I didn't want to add to your problems."

I raised my eyes to him and studied his expression. There was sincerity in his face and it brought some relief to my churning stomach. He was telling me the truth. I could see it.

"It was only because you didn't want to upset me?"

"You've already been through so much and I wanted you better. All I wanted was for you to feel like you again. That's why I decided not to tell you before now."

"So why tell me now? What changed?"

"I thought you were ready," he sighed. He shrugged his shoulders. "You've been doing great recently and I didn't want to hide it for any longer than absolutely necessary. I wanted to tell you. I always wanted to tell you, it was just… Ana, through everything, all I've wanted is to keep you safe and happy. There wasn't any maliciousness in my decision, I promise. I wasn't trying to deceive you or lie to you."

I knew he meant every word. He wasn't fibbing or trying to worm his way out of a sticky situation.

He had done what he thought was best. He had acted with good intentions, in spite of how things have unfolded.

"You were the first person I wanted to tell, when I found out about that stupid book," he explained. "I wanted to pick up the phone and tell you everything, but then you went to see José again and I knew you would get upset when he refused to see you and… I just couldn't do it. I couldn't knock you when you were already down. I love you too much to do that."

"You've wanted to tell me all this time?"

"It's been tearing me apart," he nodded. "And then every time I thought about telling you, something would happen and I'd have to rethink things. For the last week I've been trying to find the courage to open up to you, but I didn't want to ruin your first trip to New York. You were so excited."

Something flashed into my mind.

I frowned at him.

"You were going to tell me before New York, weren't you?" I mouthed. He nodded back at me. "We were sat in here. Kate called you and you changed your mind."

"I didn't want to tell you and then have to leave," he said. "I couldn't expect you to deal with it on your own, with me on the other side of the country. And I couldn't not go to New York."

Thank god he didn't tell me before he went to New York. If he tried to leave me now, I think I really would fall apart.

"I know you probably don't believe me, but you were always my main priority," he murmured. "I know I've fucked up and ruined everything."

I dropped my gaze to the ice-cream.

"No, you haven't," I shook my head. "I think you did the right thing by not telling me sooner."

"You do?"

I shrugged my shoulders.

"I talked to Rhian about it," I said. "I was worried that you didn't tell me because you thought I was too crazy or something… or maybe because you didn't trust me. I don't know."

"That wasn't it at all!"

"I believe you," I nodded. "It was my insecurities getting the better of me. I asked Rhian what she thought and she kind of agreed with you. She said I probably would have found it a lot more difficult to process this before now. She didn't say the words exactly but I think she was suggesting I would have had a full-on breakdown. She agreed that a month ago I was in a much darker place than I am now."

He pursed his lips, keeping quiet.

"I know I wasn't in the right head space back then," I added. "But I'm not sure if I'm totally ready now. The way I reacted, it really scared me."

"I didn't realise you were having a panic attack," he explained shyly. "I didn't spot the signs."

"It came out of nowhere," I nodded. "It was like someone had tipped a bucket of water over my head. I had no control of what was happening and I completely panicked… I just knew I needed to calm down."

"It scared me too, you know." He cleared his throat. "When you ran away from me."

"I wasn't running from you… I don't even know what I was running from. I needed to get away from the situation, that's all. Get away from _her_."

"Did you hear her voice again?"

I nodded again, closing my eyes for a second.

"I couldn't block her out and that made things worse," I huffed. "I always knew that recovery would be difficult and that set backs are normal, but I didn't expect that it'd hurt this much. Hitting rock bottom again."

"You haven't hit rock bottom," he tried to assure me, mirroring what Rhian said to me earlier.

"It feels like I have."

His face contorted, his shoulders sagging forward.

"I'm so tired of running around in a circle all the time," I continued. I needed to explain it fully, get it off my chest. "Therapy has been working for me lately and Rhian is amazing, but I've been holding back. I've been skirting around the real crux of my problems because I'm scared of opening up that door again. There's a part of me that wants to block it off and ignore it forever."

"I know that feeling," he muttered. "I've been doing it for years."

"But there's only so long you can hold back all the shit that's trying to break free… Rhian said it's like overfilling a closet. You keep shoving stuff in there, without putting anything away neatly, and sooner or later that closet is going to explode. Everything will come tumbling out unless you start sorting through the problems that are building up."

"What are you going to do about it, then? How are you going to empty the closet, so to speak?"

"I have to put an end to all of this," I whispered. "I have to learn to let go. I can't bottle it up anymore because it's doing more damage in the long run."

He turned his chin to me. His brows were low with a hard frown.

"We can't keep putting ourselves through this, Christian," I shook my head at him. "It has to stop now. We can't keep going on like we have been. It's not working anymore. Today proved it."

His eyes widened, his mouth hanging open.

He slid off the couch, dropping to his knees in front of me.

"No," he shook his head. He frantically reached for my hand, squeezing my fingers tight. "No, please, don't do this… I can't… I can't cope without you –"

 _What?_

"Christian –"

"Please!" he begged. "You can't do this. I know I've messed up, but I can put things right. Let me make this better. Don't give up on me."

"Give up on you?" I shook my head. "Christian, no…"

I pulled my hand out of his grip and pressed my palm to his cheek.

"I'm not talking about us."

"Huh?"

"I didn't mean our relationship."

He sank back on his heels, deflating.

"You… you didn't?"

"No, baby," I exhaled. "I was talking about her… I meant we can't keep putting ourselves through this cycle of waiting for the next time she creeps up on us from beyond the grave. We have to stop letting her interfere with our lives."

He stared up at me, looking both confused and relieved by my response.

"I've let her control me and she isn't even here," I sighed. "I did that. My brain did that and that's crazy to me. After today, I realise now more than ever that I have to make a change. I can't let this continue. I can't let her ruin my life. She doesn't get to do that. She doesn't get to beat me. She didn't do it when she was alive, so why am I allowing it to happen now she's dead?"

"Right…"

"I don't want her in my head anymore. I know I've put her in there and didn't even realise I'd done it, but I know it has to stop. I need to get rid of her."

I reeled my shoulders back and exhaled a shaky breath.

"I can't go on like this for ever. I have to put an end to it and I don't care how difficult it's going to be. It doesn't matter how many panic attacks I have… I need to move on with my life."

He opened his mouth, poised to speak, but I got in there first.

"I can't let that bitch destroy me. Elena Lincoln can't hurt me anymore."

Shock engulfed his entire face.

"What?" I frowned.

"You said her name," he croaked, shaking his head. "You said Elena's name."

I slowly nodded my head at him.

I didn't tell him that my insides were churning, or that acid was lacing the route from my stomach to my mouth. My reaction was solely on the inside. I didn't flinch or shudder. Didn't cower at the words.

Not this time.

Because I realise now that they are just words. They have only ever been words.

"Fear of a name only increases fear of the thing itself," I recited.

Christian jerked his head to the side.

"Is that another of Rhian's weird sayings?" he checked, arching his brow.

I snorted a laugh and pointed to the TV.

"No, it's from _Harry Potter_. I was watching it before you came in."

He shot a look over his shoulder, staring at the screen.

"Oh," he mouthed. "I've never seen it."

"What? You've never seen _Harry Potter?_ "

"No," he shook his head. "Never seen any of the movies or read the books."

I tutted and patted the couch, urging him to sit back down again.

"You have so much to catch up on," I rolled my eyes. "I can't possibly be in a relationship with someone who doesn't know anything about _Harry Potter_."

He resumed his spot beside me, slouching into the cushions. I scooted over and curled into his side, pulling his arm around my shoulders as I settled into him.

"We'll talk about the notebook and everything tomorrow," I told him. "You need to tell me everything, from start to finish."

"I never wanted to keep it from you," he promised in a whisper. "I just didn't want to cause you any more pain."

I nodded.

"I wasn't strong enough," I mumbled. "You did what you thought was right… I wish I had been stronger for you…"

He tightened his hold, pulling me closer into his side. I felt his lips meet the top of my head. Tears began to fall from my eyes.

"Because while you were trying to protect me, who was protecting you?" I whimpered. "Who was supporting you, making sure you were okay?"

"I wasn't alone," he revealed. "I had some help."

I paused.

"Flynn and Taylor?"

"And Elliot," he confirmed. "Elliot was actually the first person I told."

I could understand that. The two of them have grown a lot closer in recent months.

Christian cleared his throat.

"But, erm, Kate has been helping me too," he added.

I raised my head and looked him in the eye.

"Kate?"

He nodded, gingerly. "She was helping me track down the other guys," he explained. "She acted as the go-between. Finding out information and making contact on my behalf."

"That's why she went to New York with you?"

"She helped arrange the meeting," he nodded. His face fell. "I'm sorry."

I held his gaze for a minute and shook my head. I buried myself into his waist again, hugging him tight.

"You needed help," I whispered. "I'm glad you weren't dealing with it on your own."

"Do you really mean that?"

"You wouldn't have coped if you had tried to tackle this by yourself," I said. "You didn't have me, but you had the next best thing."

"I did?"

"You had people I trust on your side," I nodded. "People who care about you."

"You're not mad that I told them before you?"

Surprisingly, I wasn't.

"You were thinking about me," I replied. "You were thinking about my health. How can I be mad about that?"

He rubbed his hand up and down my arm. I felt his chest shudder against me and a few seconds later, tears trickled into my hair.

Neither of us said anything.

I turned my face into his chest and kissed him through his t-shirt. He cleared his throat and sniffed loudly. I lifted my head as he reached up to his face and frantically wiped his cheeks.

"So, this Harry Potter kid," he shook his head. "Is this the first movie in the series?"

I nodded.

"Do I need to watch it from the beginning or will I be able to catch on?"

"We can start over," I hummed. He caught my eye and something flickered through his deep grey irises. "I'll talk you through anything you don't understand… It can get a little confusing if you're a muggle."

" _Muggle?_ " he repeated. "What the fuck is a muggle?"

"There is so much you don't know," I shook my head.

"But you'll stick with me while I try to figure it out?"

I tucked myself back into his side and grabbed his hand as it draped over my shoulder. I linked my fingers with his and started pressing light kisses to each of his fingertips.

"Whatever happens in our future, whatever shit is thrown at us, we're going to face it together," I promised. "No matter how scary or difficult it is. We're a team and as long as we're together, I know we can work our way through anything."


	38. Chapter Thirty Seven

**Hello Lovelies,**

 **Thank you so much for your continued support. It means the absolute world to me.**

 **I hope you like this chapter.**

 **Much Love,**

 **Chelsea x**

* * *

 **DoloresDeeHowe** – Thank you so much! I hope you enjoy this chapter. Much Love x

 **Iamdbomangmail** – Thank you! I'm starting to feel better now, but I'm still taking things slowly as I get back on my feet. I hope you enjoy this chapter! Much Love x

 **Paula White** – Thank you! That really means a lot to me. I hope you enjoy this update! Much Love x

 **SuzB** – Thank you so much! That's so lovely of you to say. I've started therapy now and it's going well so far, fingers crossed I'll be back to my normal self very soon. I hope you enjoy this chapter. Much Love x

 **Susan** – Thank you! I really hope you like this chapter too. Much Love x

 **Reds77** – Thank you, my lovely! It was a sad chapter to write, for so many reasons. But thankfully they've pulled through it, like they always do! I hope you enjoy this chapter too. Much Love x

* * *

We returned to bed before dawn broke through the clouds, having finished watching the first _Harry Potter_ movie. We were able to grab a few hours of restful sleep before finally getting up to face the rest of the day.

Neither of us went to work. We had more pressing matters on our minds, a long day of talking ahead of us.

Christian made a quick call to Andrea and was able to clear his entire day, while I called Mark and explained that I would be working from home. I told him it was women's problems.

It was a total fib, I'll admit that, but I would make up the hours at some point. I just didn't want to get into the real reason for my absence. As understanding as Mark has been through the whole Maîtrise ordeal, I didn't want to dump this latest bombshell on him. He doesn't need to know who or what Elena Lincoln was, apart from the complete psychopath who tried to kill me.

After a light breakfast, Christian and I sat down at the dining table. We didn't move for hours. Once he had started talking, he couldn't stop. Every last detail he had been keeping secret for the past six weeks was unleashed, no stones left unturned. He revealed everything in chronological order – starting with the call from Elena's lawyer telling him about her will, ending with our trip to New York where he met her final victim.

I didn't interrupt him once. I simply sat there and listened, absorbing everything he had to share. I wanted to give him the time and space to speak.

My silence was partly a necessity, though. As the conversation turned darker, digging deeper into Elena's predatory behaviour, I could feel my heart rate soaring through the roof. As my pulse started to race, my breathing became laboured. It took a lot of concentration and energy to keep a hold on my emotions. I put Rhian's techniques into practice, taking charge of my anxiety before it spiralled like it did yesterday.

If I'm being honest with myself, I'm embarrassed of how I reacted when Christian told me about the book. I should have been able to nip the panic attack in the bud, but it hit me too quickly. It snuck up on me out of nowhere. It was too intense, too overwhelming.

Each time I've had a panic attack, I've felt exhausted afterwards. But I'm also crippled with shame.

Why can't my brain behave itself?

Why can't I get a grip and just be normal again?

What's wrong with me?

I know I shouldn't think those things, but I do. I can't help it. I know there isn't anything wrong with having poor mental health – almost everyone experiences some kind of problem in their lifetime – but I want my life back now. I want to get back to how I was before all of this started.

After my chat with Rhian last night, however, I know there is light at the end of the tunnel. There is hope. I will recover. I will learn to take back control.

It's just a matter of time.

 _When, not if._

"So, that brings us up to now, I guess," Christian said, clearing his throat. He leaned back into his chair, his shoulders dropping on a deep exhale. "That's everything there is to know."

"Right…" I hummed. A furrow worked its way through my brow. "You really had no idea what was going on?"

"With what, the other boys?" he asked. I nodded. "No, I didn't. I had no reason to suspect she had preyed on kids… I didn't even think _I_ was a kid when it happened to me. I've only started thinking that way since meeting you."

"Did you ever meet her subs?"

"A few of them, yes. But they were always adults, in their 20s or 30s."

"And they all looked like you?"

He shrugged his shoulders.

"I never noticed it before. It was only when I read through that fucking book I realised she even had a type… She chose them based on whether they looked like me – she even rated them on similarity, for fuck's sake. All because I was her first sub? How insane is that!?"

I could almost visualise the Christian lookalikes Elena used and tortured. She must have had a checklist on standby, only selecting those with copper-brown hair, light eyes and chiselled features.

It made my stomach churn.

"I wish I had asked questions," he sighed, a grumble evident in his tone. "If I had looked into her subs, I could have uncovered something. I could have stopped her, saved those other boys from getting hurt."

"You couldn't have done anything." I curled my hand around his and gave his fingers a tight squeeze. "She couldn't have been stopped. She hid this from the world. She kept it from you and you were her closest confidant."

"I guess…"

"Besides, you never met those other boys, not while it was happening to them. Right?"

"No," he shook his head. "I didn't know anything about them."

"So how exactly could you have protected them?" I shot back. I needed him to realise this. I needed him to stop blaming himself. "Whatever she did, it had nothing to do with you. None of it was your fault."

"Why does it feel like it is?" He brought his free hand to his face and rubbed his forehead as he frowned. "She chose them because they looked like me. _Me!"_

"You did nothing wrong," I said firmly, holding his stare. "No one blames you."

"If I had known…" he trailed off. He shook his head again. I felt his hand ball into a fist underneath mine. "I would have killed her myself."

He wasn't alone in thinking that way.

There must be dozens of people who wanted Elena dead. By the sounds of it, Jake Costello's father would have gladly put a bullet between her eyes for what she did to his son.

If it wasn't for Jake begging his parents to let it go and move out of Seattle, Elena's dirty little secret would have been exposed long before now.

While I could understand Jake's decision, a part of me wishes he had the strength and courage to speak out when it happened to him. Death was too good for the likes of Elena Lincoln. She should be rotting in a prison cell, not six-feet under.

"Did you know she was going to leave you everything in her will?" I asked. "Did she ever tell you that's what she was planning?"

"It never crossed my mind," he muttered. "I've only ever thought about my will, no one else's. I figured she might leave it to a charity or something. When her attorney called me, I almost fell out of my chair!"

"I don't know why I'm surprised she did this," I sighed. "It's exactly the kind of manipulative crap she always did. Why should anything be different now she's dead?"

"Exactly," he nodded. "It's the last chance she had to make sure she's a fixture in my life. Another chance to exert some control, make sure I'm reminded of her and indebted to her."

"You owed her nothing."

"I know," he said. "But for a long time I thought I did. She made me think that way."

I was relieved to hear him say that. It's steps like this that show he's moving forward.

Acceptance first. Forgiveness will come later.

To forgive himself will be the most pivotal step in Christian's recovery. I had heard Flynn say that to him on a few occasions. It's not about forgiving himself because he did something wrong – it's about forgiving the boy inside him who feels guilty for not realising what was going on. The boy he's now trying to protect, despite him living in the past.

"It's fucked up that she went to these lengths," I said. "She really saw you as some kind of toy, didn't she? She treated you like you were her property."

"And I didn't even see it," he chuckled awkwardly. "I was clueless to all of it. I always knew what she was like, I saw how she behaved towards me, but I blocked it out. I ignored it until you came along."

It wasn't me who prompted the change in his relationship with Elena.

It was Leila who altered the way he viewed that monster.

Elena had introduced them, despite knowing Leila was seriously unwell. She knew Leila had mental health problems, yet she wanted another opportunity to dictate who Christian saw.

When he ended his contract with Leila, his and Elena's relationship became fractious. He didn't trust her anymore. Didn't trust her judgement or motives. Things simply worsened when he met me. Elena didn't like the idea of him growing close to me, despite agreeing to hire me after Christian ordered her to.

She saw me as a danger the moment we met. She knew I was his type, but she also saw the way he looked at me. She could see the connection. She knew she would ultimately lose him to me.

And so I became a threat that needed to be eliminated.

"Have you thought about what you'll do with it all?" I wondered. He frowned at me, confused. "With everything she left you. The house, the businesses."

He raised his brows, as if the realisation had only just hit him.

"I hadn't given it a second thought," he sighed, puffing out his cheeks. He shook his head. "I was so wrapped up in that book and what I found out that I…"

His gaze dropped to the book, his words falling silent.

The book had remained unopened for the duration of our conversation. Christian asked if I wanted to look through it myself, but I didn't. I wanted him to tell me what he had discovered. I wanted to hear his voice, not hers.

He shied away from telling me the incriminating details Elena had kept in her book of sin. I could imagine the kind of things she would have written down, the information she would want to store for prosperity. Each note like a trophy. Her latest conquest.

I was surprised there were only three victims – Christian, Alexander Bradford and Jake Costello. Somehow, I had anticipated there being more.

Maybe she only kept details of those she practiced BDSM on? Perhaps she didn't include purely sexual encounters?

"I'll probably liquidate the businesses," Christian mused, more to himself than to me.

"You don't want to sell them?"

"No," he said, no hesitation. "I don't want the money. They were failing anyway. All of the businesses were struggling and have been for years. Elena was flogging a dead horse."

He lifted his eyes and stared at me.

A slow smirk twisted around my lips, a laugh bubbling inside my chest.

"That sounded better in my head," Christian snorted. He rolled his eyes. "This is so fucked up... She's dead and still fucking with people's lives."

"Would you expect anything different from her? Seriously? This is exactly who she is – _was_ … I only knew her for a couple months and I got a fair idea of just how delusional she was. She was the epitome of evil."

He slowly nodded his head. "It's hard to get my head around the fact I didn't see any of this coming. I can't believe I was so ignorant."

"She manipulated you," I reminded him. "It's what she did to everyone, by the sounds of it. She made sure she always got what she wanted."

"She made sure she always came out on top," he corrected, arching his brow. "The irony isn't lost on me."

"But there's one thing she didn't get," I added on a smile. I gave his hand another squeeze. "She tried to destroy what we have, but she didn't succeed. She couldn't break us."

"Nobody can," he affirmed. He turned his hand in mine and brought my fingers to his lips. "I won't let anyone spoil what we have."

My smile spread higher as he began devoting time to each of my fingertips, pressing gentle, loving kisses across the entirety of my hand.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner," he whispered, rehashing the apology he had been churning out for the past eighteen hours. "I was scared."

"I know," I nodded. "And, like I've already told you, I understand why you couldn't talk to me about it. I wasn't ready."

"But –"

"There are no buts," I interrupted. "You need to stop apologising. You made a choice based on my wellbeing. I think you made the right call, so let it go. It's done."

"I don't want you to think I was betraying you."

"I don't," I shook my head.

"And I don't want you thinking I was sneaking around, or that I even wanted to keep it from you in the first place," he rambled.

"I don't, you know that –"

"Especially as I told Elliot and Kate before you, but I needed –"

"Christian!" I barked his name. The stern tone of my voice jolted him, his head snapping up and his eyes widening. "Stop. Okay? We've been over this. I understand why you didn't tell me, and I understand why you involved Elliot and Kate in your plans. I get it. I don't feel betrayed, so let it go."

"You promise you're not just saying that?"

"I promise," I sighed. "You need to believe me. I'm telling you the truth. It's okay."

His shoulders relaxed, lowering back into their normal place.

He released a deep breath and shook his head.

"I hated keeping it from you for as long as I did. There were so many times I was this so close to telling you," he confessed, pinching his finger and thumb together.

"All of those times you were acting weird and really tense, it was because of the book?"

He nodded. "It was harder than I thought it would be. We share everything, for fuck's sake. It was eating me up inside."

It explained so much.

He would often come home from work in a bad mood, looking more tired than usual, revealing to me that he had snapped at his employees all day long. I knew there was something plaguing him, but I couldn't put my finger on it.

And all along he was trying to suppress his desperate need to tell me. Because he wanted to protect me from myself. He didn't have it in him to burst my fragile bubble.

"No matter what you had chosen to do, one of us would have gotten hurt in the process," I hummed. He frowned. "If you had told me straight away, I would have crumbled. I would have suffered. But by keeping it to yourself, you suffered. You had to carry this huge weight around… and she did that to us. She put you in an awkward position by leaving you everything in her fucking will."

Christian curled his lip in disgust. I could see that detail still frustrated him. I knew he didn't want her money or possessions. He wanted her out of our lives as much as I did.

"It was the lesser of two evils, keeping it to myself," he grimaced. "I had to put you first. You were my priority. Always."

I already knew that. He has always put me first.

When he visited Alexander Bradford's widow, Emily, the meeting took place during his work hours. He conducted everything while I was busy at work, distracted and focused, less likely to have a meltdown. He made sure Sawyer and Jaz kept an even closer eye on me that day.

When Kate told him about meeting Jake Costello in New York, he was prepared to cancel everything because I wasn't going to fly out there with him. He didn't want to leave me on my own.

When I've had panic attacks and not felt myself, he has dropped whatever he was doing to be at my side. He held my hand, hugged me, rubbed my back and talked me down…

I've always been his number one. Every step of the way, he was thinking of me.

"You told me as much as you could," I said, smiling back at him. "I wasn't totally in the dark over what you were doing… I didn't know the specifics, but you told me about Emily and her daughter and what you had done for them."

He smiled, the memory of that meeting making his eyes light up.

"It's not just me you've put first," I added. "You've put everyone first. You didn't stop to think, did you? Did it even cross your mind what all of this could have done to you?"

"What do you mean?"

"It could have sent you into a tailspin," I elaborated. "You've only recently started processing what Elena did to you. Meeting her other victims and finding out what happened to them, that could have messed with your head. It could have unearthed some really scary stuff for you. It could have set you back in your recovery. Didn't you think about that?"

"No," he shook his head. "Not once."

"You need support too, you know."

"I had Elliot, Kate and Taylor," he shrugged. "And Flynn, of course."

"That's one consolation," I sighed.

"He actually tried to stop me. He didn't want me to track down the other guys. He basically said what you did – he was concerned it would set me back."

"And you ignored him?"

"I was driven by my need to help them," he grumbled. His head dropped, his eyes closing. "Nothing mattered apart from making sure they got the help they needed. I could only imagine they felt the way I've started to feel about what Elena did to me… I feel disgusting. Dirty. _Ashamed_."

"Of what?"

"Allowing her to do that to me," he shook his head. His jaw clenched. "Allowing her to continue messing with my head. For being too fucking weak –"

I was out of my chair and in his lap before the first of his tears fell from his eyes.

I crawled onto him, burying my face in his neck.

"I hate her," he grunted. He wrapped his arms around me, squeezing as tight as he could. "I hate her so fucking much."

"So do I, baby," I hummed, stroking the back of his neck. I pecked a kiss to his wet cheek. "None of it was your fault, you need to remember that. She was the adult, not you. You have nothing to feel dirty or ashamed of. Nothing."

He didn't reply for an age.

He shuddered as he cried, his face deep into my collarbone, his tears soaking my shirt.

"I wanted to prove I'm not like her," he whimpered. "I don't want to be like her."

"You're nothing like that woman!" I shook my head. "You couldn't be more different."

"But I behaved like her for years." He lifted his head and fixed me with his watery gaze. His chin trembled. "I was exactly like her… I treated people like shit. I used people, saw women as things I could either fuck or hit."

"Because she manipulated you into being like that," I reminded him. "You didn't do those things out of choice, it was what you were shown to do. You didn't know any different from what she had taught you."

"I –"

"You are nothing like Elena," I said, more forcefully this time, the words grinding through my teeth. "You're a million times the person she was… She was selfish, rude, evil right down to her core. But you… Christian, you're so caring and considerate. You have the biggest heart in the world, and you have so much love inside you."

His chin wobbled again. The corners of his eyes creased as more tears began to slip down his cheeks.

It took all my strength not to cry as I watched him fall apart.

"Do you remember what happened when we first met?" I asked. He nodded. "Remember what you did? You saw I was upset after my interview and that I was walking home, so you followed me. Why?"

"I wanted to make sure you were okay," he muttered under his breath.

"You forced Elena to hire me. Why?"

"I checked your resume," he shrugged. "I figured you really needed the job."

"And when you came into the club after I completed my first shift, you gave me that ridiculous tip. Why did you do that?"

He dropped his eyes.

He knew what I was doing.

"Because I knew you needed the money," he sighed. "I had Welch look into you. I found out how much you were struggling, financially. I wanted to help you out."

"When my car broke down and I called you, you came running with no hesitation. You paid for my repairs. You even had Taylor drive me around until Elliot had finished with my car. Why?"

"To keep you safe."

"Did you do any of those things because you expected something in return?"

"Well, I wanted you –"

"Did you help me because you thought it was a sure-fire way of getting me into bed?"

"No," he replied instantly, shaking his head. "God, no! Never."

I raised my brow at him.

"Can't you see it?" I cupped the back of his neck, holding him steady as I rubbed the tip of my nose against his. "Elena would never have done those things. She didn't care about anyone but herself. You're the total opposite of everything she stood for."

He didn't respond, but I knew my words had finally sunk in. I could see the realisation starting to take over.

We sat quietly for a short while, Christian holding me, breathing me in.

Finally, I broke the silence.

"Why didn't you tell me how you've been feeling?" I asked. "You could have told me you're struggling to process what Elena did to you."

"I didn't want to put more strain on you," he confessed, shyly. "And I didn't want to bring her up in front of you. I knew you wouldn't like it."

My stomach twisted.

"You were putting me before you again?"

"Kind of," he grunted.

"You really need to stop doing that all of the time." I planted a soft kiss on his lips. "I love how protective you are of me, but you need to start thinking of yourself. Let me support you for a change."

"You do support me," he protested. "Baby, you've made me the man I am today. You changed me for the better."

"I didn't do anything."

"You gave me hope," he shook his head. "I saw the way you were with Kate and José and Ray - how kind, helpful and loving you were just for the sake of it, just because that's who you are. I wanted you to show me all of that too, but I also wanted to become that person. I wanted to be more like you."

"That person was already inside you," I smiled. I placed my palm on his chest. "He was always in there."

"Buried under fifty tons of shit, maybe," he shrugged. "I knew you wouldn't fall for the bastard I was. I knew I had to get a grip and do something."

"Hmm… I think you'll find I had already fallen for you, bastard or not," I smirked. "I was yours from the very beginning, when you came into the club and introduced yourself to me."

He frowned. "You're not counting the interview?"

"No."

"But that was the moment I fell for you," he grumbled. "That was the moment my heart started racing for the first time. I knew right then my life was going to change."

"Well, you saw me but I didn't actually see you at the interview," I giggled. "All I knew was that I'd smacked straight into a man and I was too embarrassed to look up at him… Trust me, if I had seen you, I would have fallen at your feet. You look so hot when you're in a suit."

A smile traipsed across his mouth and he began sniffing back the last of his tears, blinking away his anguish.

"Do you forgive me?" he asked.

"There's nothing to forgive," I shook my head. I nuzzled the tip of my nose to his, assuring him that there was nothing awkward or tense between us now. The truth was out in the open, there were no more barriers. "You wanted to make things right, even though it wasn't your job to do that."

He nodded.

"But it wasn't just about that, was it?" I questioned. "You want to completely erase Elena from existence, don't you?"

He paused, then nodded again.

"Is that why you're selling your apartment in New York?"

"Partly," he hummed. "It's mostly because of the subs. I didn't want you there, being constantly reminded of what I used to do with them."

"I accept your past and who you used to be," I told him. "It wouldn't have bothered me, staying there."

"It bothered me," he shook his head. "That man doesn't exist anymore. I want to separate myself from him. I didn't like who he was. I didn't like my life back then."

"Did Elena help you choose the apartment?"

"No, she never even saw it," he explained. "It's the sub connection I want to break. They're linked to her. She set me up with several of them… Jesus, she was controlling my sex life for years!"

I rubbed his chest with my hand, comforting him as his voice started to grow terse again.

"I need a clear distinction between my past and who I am now," he said. "I want to leave all of that shit behind and start over with you. Make new memories. Wipe the slate clean."

"I can get on board with that," I smiled.

"I want to buy a new place in New York," he revealed. "Somewhere that's ours."

"You want to buy another apartment?"

"Or a townhouse," he shrugged. "I don't mind. Whatever we want."

I loved the sound of that. I love that Escala is both of ours now – our first home together.

I dropped my head onto his shoulder again, allowing him to envelope me into his embrace.

We sat there for a few minutes, enjoying the stillness. When I'm safe in his arms, the world doesn't seem quite so daunting. When I can feel his heart beating, his warm breath on my cheek, I'm reminded of how far we've come and how much we have to look forward to in our future.

Rhian was right. The last two days have been explosive, painful and tiring, but it was just a blip.

We can pull through anything. Our bond is unbreakable.

Christian smoothed his hands up my spine, until they were deeply massaging the muscles in my shoulders.

"What are you thinking about?" he whispered.

"I'm thinking it's time we start letting go of Elena Lincoln," I replied. I felt him nod against me. "We need to let go in order to move forward."

"I don't think it's going to be easy."

"Nothing ever is, not where she's concerned," I snorted. "But we have to try."

"I'm prepared to do anything," he agreed. "Therapy, whatever it takes. I want this part of our lives over."

I licked my lips and sucked in a deep breath, filling my lungs to ready myself for what I was about to say.

"There is one problem, though," I said. I leaned back and looked him in the eye. "Neither of us are able to confront her about what she did. Rhian told me that's often a good way to start healing, by confronting the thing that caused you pain and telling yourself that it can't hurt you anymore."

"Sounds like another bullshit cliché to me."

"Maybe," I shrugged. "But I trust her logic… I've tried to hide from anything remotely connected to Elena for months. A part of me knows that I have to confront her now, I have to face up to her."

"Okay…"

"I was discussing it with Rhian," I continued. "She told me months ago that I need to find a way to face my fears, in order to get closure."

He scrunched up his nose, his distaste for clichés instant and unyielding.

"Because she's not here, I have to face up to something connected to her," I explained. "Something that's drenched in her."

"You need to return to the scene of the accident?"

I shook my head.

"I don't want to go back to Maîtrise. Well, I can't go back there now."

The club doesn't exist anymore. It was demolished in the weeks after the fire, now just a scorched piece of land. I don't know what will happen to it – whether another club will be built in its place, or if it will be sold to a developer to make way for an apartment building.

If I'm being honest with myself, I don't care what happens to it.

Going back to where the club once stood wouldn't help me. Weirdly, I don't associate the club with Elena. Not really. I am reminded of Christian and Cal when I think of Maîtrise, my happier memories overtaking the bad ones now.

"I can think of somewhere else that might help, though," I mumbled, nervously.

It's the place her most heinous crimes took place, an abandoned monument of the torture she inflicted on others.

"I want to go to her house," I confessed. "I want to see where she lived."

Christian didn't reply, didn't even move an inch. He just stared at me.

"I understand if you don't want to go back there," I added. "You don't have to come with me. I'll go on my own. I can handle it."

"You really want to go there?" He tilted his head. I nodded. "You realise that's where José was imprisoned, where she hurt him?"

"I know. That's kinda why I want to go there. I need to see it for myself."

"You don't think it'll be too much for you?"

I shrugged my shoulders. "Like you said, it's not going to be easy. I know it'll be hard, but I need to give this a try."

His gaze roamed my entire face, the cogs of his mind ticking over as he pondered my idea.

Finally, he cleared his throat and nodded.

"Okay. We'll go see her house."

"You don't need to –"

"I do."

"Don't do this for me," I shook my head. "I mean it, Christian. Don't put me first, not this time. I don't want you to go to her house if it's going to upset you."

He silenced me, his finger pressing to my lips.

"We're in this together," he said. "Wherever you go, I go… You jump, I jump. That's how it's always going to be with us."

"You can handle it? After what you've told me?"

"If I've got you right there next to me, I can face anything," he replied, his voice full of confidence. "I love you more than you'll ever understand."

I reached up to my throat and fingered the pendant around my neck.

"I have your heart," I nodded.

"Always," he smiled, leaning forward to bring his lips to mine. His kiss was deep and passionate, as spine-tingling as ever. "I'm going to need you to say it back. The voice in my head –"

"I love you, Christian," I interrupted. "Ignore that stupid voice. You never have to question my love for you. It's there. Every minute of every day."

"Thank you."


	39. Chapter Thirty Eight

**Hello Lovelies,**

 **I hope you're all doing well and having a great weekend so far.**

 **Thank you for your continued support and love. You guys rock!**

 **Much Love,**

 **Chelsea x**

* * *

 **Paula White** – Thank you! I'm glad you liked it. I hope you enjoy this chapter too! Much Love x

 **SuzB** – Thank you! One of the things I love most about their relationship is the amount of love and support they offer each other. They're bond is rock solid! I hope you like this chapter too! Much Love x

 **DoloresDeeHowe** – Thank you! I really hope you like this chapter too! Much Love x

 **Reds77** – Thank you! Those bloody allergies! ;) Christian always gets me crying too. I love/hate it when he opens up and lets his emotions run freely. I hope you like this chapter! Much Love x

 **Susan** – Thank you! I'm glad you liked it. I hope you like this chapter too! Much Love x

* * *

When Christian and I agreed to pay a visit to Elena's house on Friday afternoon, neither of us had realised what the date was.

 _Friday 13th July._

The irony wasn't at all lost on us. In a strange way, it seemed rather fitting. Even if I was praying that we wouldn't find a maniac with a machete lurking somewhere in her home!

We stopped outside the gates blocking access to the property, Christian's R8 instantly feeling like an ant in comparison to the daunting barriers in front of us. Three quarters of the gates were solid, matte black, soaring eight feet into the air. At the top, however, stood another two feet of wrought iron, the intricate design coiling like a snake across the width of the gate. It curled and suffocated itself, knotting at the edges.

Christian leaned out of the window and activated the display panel, entering a five-digit combination. The gates creaked open, swinging apart to reveal a long, narrow drive.

"She gave you the code?" I asked.

He shook his head as he settled back in his seat. "Her attorney gave it to me," he explained. "I went to see him earlier. I had to sign off on the paperwork in order to get the keys to the house."

He weaved the car along the sharp incline that led to the house. The driveway was framed by a thick canopy of oak trees hanging over the gravel, making it feel like we were trapped in a tunnel. After a few seconds, we emerged from it and came to a halt directly in front of the house.

My stomach tightened as I stared at the three-storey building. It seemed much larger than Grace and Carrick's home, which I knew was only a few blocks away from here. The proximity between the two houses made me feel uneasy, knowing how Christian used to walk the short distance every time he came to see Elena.

The brickwork appeared dull and grey, but I could tell the exterior used to be pure white. No doubt to contrast with the charcoal roof. All of the windows were sealed shut, black wooden shutters closed and keeping the real world out of this mansion of torture and abuse.

I started to realise where Christian got his monochrome tastes from. She influenced so many of his preferences, manipulating him on all fronts. She had spent the best part of a decade inside his head. I was relieved he was now starting the process of breaking those ties, more so that we were doing it together.

Christian cut the engine and unbuckled his seatbelt, but he made no move to exit the car. I slowly turned my head to him and saw him studying the house, just as I had been doing.

"It's okay if you want to wait in the car," I told him. "You don't have to do this."

"I know," he nodded once. "But I need to. I need to know what can be sold."

When I had proposed the idea of visiting Elena's house, he was so quick to agree that I worried he hadn't thought of himself and his own wellbeing again. I didn't want him to rush into this if it was going to set him back in any way. I needed him to know it's okay if we're at different stages in our recovery. But he was adamant he wanted to come with me and after probably the tenth time of checking if he was okay doing this, he told me he wanted to inspect the house for any valuables. He had a mission, a purpose for being here: he planned on selling anything of value so the money can be donated to charity.

I thought it was a great idea, but I still wasn't sure if now was the right time for him to be here.

"Ana," he sighed my name and sagged into his seat. He rolled his head towards me and instinctively reached over to pick up my hand. "I know you're worried about me, but I'm okay. I'll be fine."

"Do you promise you'll tell me if you start to feel uncomfortable? Even just a little bit?"

"I promise," he confirmed with a soft smile. "And I appreciate you worrying about me. It's good to know we're in the same boat right now."

A small frown crept over my brows. "You're worried about me?"

He nodded.

"You're worried I'm going to fall apart?" I clarified my question.

"There's still a part of me that wants to shield you from all of this," he admitted. He brought my hand to his lips, his breath warm against my fingers. "Even the smallest possibility of seeing you upset makes me want to wrap you in cotton wool and hold you tight. I'd do anything to protect you from harm, in any way, shape or form."

"The feeling's mutual," I smiled back at him. "Are you ready to rip off the band-aid?"

"As ready as I'll ever be," he nodded.

We met at the hood of the car, our hands automatically reaching for the other's. I glanced up at him and searched his face for any signs of fear. For too long he has put me first, it was now time for me to turn the tables and protect him.

He gave my hand a tight squeeze and then began walking towards the porch. He removed a set of bronze keys from his pocket and tried a number of them in the lock before finding the right one. On the fourth attempt, the latch gave way and, with a slight shove, Christian pushed the door open.

He stepped inside the house, crossing the threshold first.

The first thing that struck me was the smell. Musty, stale, like walking into a vacuum. There was no air circulating, just ribbons of dust swirling through the light seeping in from behind us. The front door opened into a wide, circular vestibule with an imposing gothic staircase directly ahead. I scanned the barren space and noted the checkered marble floor tiles, the damask wallpaper, the carpet on the stairs – all black and white in design. There wasn't a single burst of colour. Not even her favourite shade of red.

It was like entering an optical illusion. After just a few seconds I was starting to get a headache.

Christian took me through the archway to the left, leading the way into a large sitting room. Her monochrome tastes flowed between the rooms, this space featuring white heavily, using black as an accent. The only furniture in the room were two small leather couches, a glass coffee table and a crystal vase that had once contained flowers, now lifeless and brown. The petals were crumpled around the base of the vase, the stems limp and withered.

"Was it always this empty?" I asked, unable to comprehend the bareness surrounding us.

"No," he shook his head. "This room used to be full of shit. Paintings, sculptures… Looks like she was struggling towards the end. She must have sold a lot of stuff already."

"You said she used to be careless with money?"

He nodded. "She was close to bankruptcy a couple of times. I had to bail her out."

"She came to you for money?"

"I was her personal ATM," he snorted. His lips quickly curled into a grimace. "I thought I was helping her out. She gave me a leg up in the beginning, so I thought I was just repaying the favour. That's how I always viewed it. If she came to me pleading poverty, I handed over whatever she needed."

"How much money did you give her over the years?"

"Too fucking much!" he shook his head. His fingers tightened around mine. "I don't even want to think about the total sum. It's in the millions, that much I know."

My skin bristled. She robbed him of his virginity, abused him for years, and had the audacity to plunder money from him?

 _I hope you're rotting in hell, you fucking bitch._

"The money never bothered me," Christian continued. "When I started making a lot of the stuff, I began throwing it around. I would piss it up the walls on the most expensive cars, champagne, watches. As long as I had enough in my account to make sure I didn't fall into poverty myself, and I had enough to buy food, I didn't care."

"You still do that. You're happy to throw money about," I countered. "Remind me, how much is my new car costing you?"

He laughed under his breath, fixing me with a smile. He understood the joking tone in my voice.

"I'm more careful than I used to be," he said. "I only spend money on important things these days. I like to lavish my money on the people who deserve it. The people I care about."

He pulled me forward and pressed a kiss to my forehead. He started leading me across the room, approaching a closed door at the far end.

"Do you think she stole money from you?" I wondered. "Pilfered it from the businesses, I mean?"

"Absolutely," he nodded, no hesitation. "I didn't keep a close eye on the figures but I know she was taking more than her share. She was doing it for years."

"And you never questioned her about it?"

"It didn't matter to me," he shrugged. "She stopped being my domme but she was always superior to me. I looked up to her. To an extent, I trusted her. A part of me thought that if she was taking the money, she clearly needed it. I considered her a friend. I thought that's what friends do – they look out for each other."

I accepted his reply with a shy nod.

I didn't fully understand the depths of his relationship with Elena, but I understood that she had played him in every way possible. She had gotten inside his head and taken up residency there for years.

"I know now she was never my friend," Christian hummed. He nodded again, as if confirming this to himself. "She was a paedophile. Nothing more."

We moved through to the kitchen - a long and narrow galley with no seating and nothing on any of the countertops. Most of the blinds were drawn, only a single window letting in a sliver of light, a patch of grass visible through it.

"I don't even want to look in the refrigerator!" I shook my head. "God knows what's in there."

"I'd guess not much," he muttered. "She wasn't a cook. She always ate out. Her ex used to do all the cooking."

"What was he like, her ex-husband?"

"Linc?" he frowned. He shrugged. "A good businessman… I used to think he was a bastard but not anymore. He had a sharp tongue – he'd need one being married to her! I think Elena made him out to be worse than he actually was. She painted him out to be a monster."

"Do you think she was projecting? Trying to cover up her own sadistic behaviour?"

"Possibly," he said.

"But didn't he beat Elena up when she told him about the two of you?"

He nodded. "And regardless of who she was and what she did, I will never be able to condone domestic violence… However, there's a small part of me that wonders if she provoked him. She needed out and wanted to make an impact. She needed something drastic to try to get me back on side. Maybe she thought I would take pity on her, if she lost everything?"

I pondered the thought for a moment. While I didn't like the idea of victim shaming, Elena was a master manipulator. If she thought something would benefit her, she would do it. Regardless of the consequences.

And I wouldn't put anything past her.

"Is this the same house she shared with her ex?" I carefully posed the question, edging around what I really wanted to know.

He turned his chin to me.

His brow hitched.

"You can ask the question outright," he told me. "You want to know if this is where she abused me?"

I bit down on my lip, my face instantly scrunching up. Slowly, I nodded my head.

"Yes," he replied. "Carrick helped her keep the house as part of the divorce settlement. She said she wanted the house for sentimental reasons, but it was actually because she wanted the dungeon."

"Dungeon?"

My mind was swarmed with images of a cold, dark, dank cell. Shackles and medieval implements of torture scattered all around.

"That's what they called their playroom," he explained. "And it's exactly what you're imagining right now. It was a horrible room. I always hated it."

"And she used to take you in there?"

He nodded.

He glanced behind me and raised his hand, pointing. I turned, following his finger, and saw a closed door.

"It used to be through there," he said. "It was Linc's room to start off with. He got Elena into the lifestyle. Or, at least, that's what she told me. The dungeon was designed to incite fear long before a whip was even raised."

I winced.

I didn't want to think of him being whipped or punished in any way.

"I don't know if it's still in there," he added. "She moved her playroom upstairs when she converted the attic."

I shook my head.

That was a room I didn't want to check out. I didn't care to know if the dungeon still existed.

Christian took my hand in his again and escorted me out of the kitchen.

* * *

After uncovering two bathrooms and a second sitting room, we concluded our inspection of the ground floor with what I presumed was Elena's home office. Just like every other room we had been in, this was also empty except for a glass desk, caked in dust, and a desktop computer that had clearly seen better days.

"I don't think we'll find anything worth selling," Christian grumbled. He ran his finger along the desk, streaking a line through the dust. "She beat us to it."

"Can I ask something?"

"You don't need permission," he replied, looking back at me. I was hovering by the door, my arms folded. "What do you want to know?"

"Did you spend a lot of time here?"

"When I was a kid or more recently?"

"Both?"

"After things ended between us, I only came here to discuss business," he revealed. "But that was rare. I preferred to see her at one of the businesses or at a restaurant, if we were having dinner together. I tried to avoid coming here too often."

"Why?"

"Because she would make comments I was uncomfortable with, so I tried to only meet her in public places. Always make sure other people were around."

I hesitated a moment.

"She'd come onto you?" I realised. He nodded. "Even after you put an end to it?"

"She propositioned me the day you came to the interview at Maîtrise," he said. My brows shot up my forehead. "She could see I was interested in you and she offered herself to me. She said she would allow me to top her, if all I was looking for was someone to play with."

My insides churned, a wave of nausea rippling through me.

"You can probably imagine what I said to her," he snorted, shaking his head. "She was desperate to have me. She never passed over an opportunity to try to convince me to come back to her."

"That's sick," I huffed.

"I blocked it out," he shrugged. "I hate to admit it, but it gave me an ego boost. It made me think I was irresistible."

I could understand that. We all need that reassurance sometimes, even men who look like Christian.

"When I was a kid, I used to come here a lot," he continued. "I came here every Saturday and would spend all day here… When it turned sexual, I would come over after school too."

"Didn't Grace or Carrick ever question it? You being here so often?"

"They didn't know I came here after school," he shook his head. "I would come here when I knew they would still be at work. I would make sure I got home before them and I bribed the housekeeper to tell them I had been at home the whole time."

"Bribed?"

"I gave her the money Elena paid me for doing chores," he explained. "Rosa agreed as long as I gave her the cash and I didn't break anything else in the house. When I used to lose my temper, I had a thing about smashing stuff up. She got tired of cleaning up after me. She used to call me a nightmare child."

"I find it hard to believe you were as bad as you make out."

He chuckled.

"I was worse," he said. "I really was a fucking nightmare. I used to get in fights all the time. I would come home with bust up knuckles and bruises… and the drinking! I used to steal alcohol and get hammered, sometimes staying out all night. I would shout at people, call them all kinds of horrible names. I treated everyone like shit. Grace and Carrick were at the end of their tether."

His face fell, a worried look creeping over his expression.

"Carrick would shout and get angry with me, but Grace used to cry a lot," he added. "They couldn't handle me. I was either going to end up dead or get thrown in jail. They had to do something to get me back on the straight and narrow."

"So they asked Elena for help?"

"They had tried everything else," he said. "They did their best. I saw hundreds of therapists when I was a kid – to help with my anger issues, PTSD stemming from childhood trauma, touch therapy to break down the fact I couldn't stand anyone even breathing near me. I tried it all but I just wasn't interested. I shut down and refused to do anything they asked me to. I would go to sessions and just sit there, not saying a word… It wasn't that Grace and Carrick asked Elena for help. She offered it."

"What do you mean? Did she know you were having problems?"

"Grace spoke to her about me," he nodded. "Everyone knew I was acting out, so it wasn't some huge secret. Elena suggested that I needed something to focus on. She mentioned me coming here to do some jobs around the house. Tidy up her yard, do some cleaning, that sort of thing. She couldn't afford a handyman and said she would give me a small amount of money here and there."

"I can understand why Grace took her up on the offer," I hummed. "I'm sure Elena posed the question in a friendly way."

"She was close with Grace for years," he said. "They were best friends at one point. Grace was desperate to help me, so she asked me if I wanted to earn some cash on the weekends. I agreed… All Grace has ever wanted to do is help me. To her, I'll always be that dirty, hungry four-year-old kid who had lost his mother and needed someone to take care of him."

I was unable to shift the overwhelming sadness that came over me whenever I think of Grace and what all of this would do to her if she learned about the abuse. Out of everyone in Christian's family, I knew the revelation would hurt her the most. Every decision she has made was with the intention of helping – _saving_ – Christian. Whichever way anyone looks at it, she unknowingly gave her son over to the predator disguising herself as a friend.

She will be crushed.

We returned to the circular vestibule, coming out on the right of the staircase. I moved to the side, waiting for Christian to emerge from the doorway.

Turning to face him, I saw his eyes had narrowed. His hand grabbed my arm and he yanked me towards him.

"Don't turn around," he ordered, looking over my head.

I froze, my spine becoming rigid.

"Please tell me there isn't a spider behind me?" I shuddered, an icy cold blast shooting down the length of my body.

He dropped his gaze to me, holding my stare for a moment before shaking his head.

"No, there are pictures of her on the wall," he explained. "There's a lot of them."

My stomach muscles relaxed a fraction.

"They're not… intimate photos, are they?" I checked.

"No," he confirmed. "It's just her. Her face is everywhere."

Months of avoiding her image and anything remotely connected to her, and now I'm standing in her house with a self-made shrine right behind me. Even just a week ago I wouldn't have thought I would be here. How quickly things have developed…

I considered my decision.

I had two choices.

I could refuse to look behind me and let Christian take me upstairs, ignoring that the pictures are there.

Or I could do what I set out to achieve by coming here today. Face up to my fears and confront her in the only way possible.

With a deep breath, I chose the latter.

Spinning on my heels, I faced the wall and honed in on the first picture my eyes fell upon. It was a black and white portrait of her sitting on a plush armchair. It was clearly intended to be an artsy snap, an attempt to make her look demure and seductive. She was wearing a low-cut, sleeveless dress, a thigh high split showing off the entirety of her leg. Her hair was loose around her shoulders, appearing pure white in the greyscale image.

Her beady eyes were fixed on the camera, now staring right back at me.

I looked at her and I felt –

 _Nothing._

Did I still hate her with a passion? Yes. That would never change. I wanted to push my hand into the picture and strangle her for all of the harm and pain she has caused so many people.

But was I scared of her? Did I suddenly think of everything she did and wanted to do to me? Was I sent right back to the club, tied up and beaten?

No.

My fear hadn't been realised as I had so painfully imagined it would be. A ghost can't hurt me. It was my own thoughts, my brain, that tormented me.

I stepped forward and reached for the frame, plucking it from the wall. I held it in my hands for a moment before raising it as high as I could, then throwing it to the floor. The glass shattered in an instant, splintering around my feet.

"Much better," I mumbled to myself, releasing a heavy sigh.

I returned to Christian's side and found him staring at me, mouth agape.

"What?" I shrugged.

He shook his head, unable to answer me.

I picked up his hand, reuniting us, and urged him to carry on with the macabre tour of the house. He led me up the stairs, coming to a halt at the top. Glancing at him, I saw a smirk on his lips.

"Tell me?" I nudged him with my elbow.

"I didn't realise you're scared of spiders, that's all," he chortled. He looked at me through the corner of his eye and winked. "Spiders? Really?"

I felt my cheeks pinking up, one of my childhood fears making itself known to him for the first time.

"I'm not scared of them," I lied. "I just really, _really_ don't like them."

His grinned lifted and he leaned over to peck a kiss on my cheek.

"Don't worry," he whispered. "I'll be the designated spider catcher in our relationship."

"Thank god," I snorted. "We'd be screwed if you hated them too!"

* * *

The house held nothing of profitable or sentimental value. There was nothing that showed this was a home. It was a shell. No character, no emotion, no colour, only the odd photograph displaying who used to live here.

As we walked around the second floor, I came to realise that Elena was a very lonely, isolated woman. The only people in her life were those she paid or abused. Sometimes they fell into both categories.

She had nothing and no one. I pity her and the pathetic life she led.

"What do you plan on doing with the house?" I asked as we exited one of the guest bedrooms, where we found only a stripped bed and an empty closet.

"I'm going to have it demolished," Christian replied. He shook his head. "I want it gone. Every last brick. No reminders."

"And then what?"

"Sell off the land," he shrugged. "I'll sell it for a dollar, if I have to. I don't give a fuck how much it fetches. I don't want a single penny from anything connected to her."

"You could give that money to charity," I suggested. He met my eye. "There's nothing to sell in here, but whatever the land gets at auction could help someone in need."

He nodded and gave me a gentle smile.

I treaded out into the hallway again and peered down to the far end. The only room we hadn't inspected was there, the door open ajar.

Christian cupped my elbow with his hand and slowly shook his head. I looked up at him and saw his lips pursed and tight.

"That's her bedroom," he explained.

"Oh…"

"I'm not going in there," he declared. "There isn't enough money in the world that could make me step foot in that room."

I stared at the door.

"Did anything happen in there?"

"No," he muttered. "Never. That stuff only happened in the dungeon… It's just too personal. Too intimate."

While I had no intention of going in her bedroom, I couldn't help but wonder what was in there.

Were there belongings of Christian's in there? Did she keep any of his clothes or the toys she used on him?

At this stage, nothing could surprise me about that woman.

Christian tugged my arm and steered me further down the hallway. Behind a wall on the left we found a hidden staircase. It had narrow steps, leading to a single wooden door. My stomach compressed, my instincts telling me what was up there.

I gave Christian a slow nod and began climbing the stairs to the attic.

Elena told everyone it was a bar, somewhere she could entertain guests and relax. The truth was it was her new torture chamber. Somewhere cut off from the rest of the house, sound-proofed, a dozen or more locks on the outside of the door, all open and inviting us in.

I pushed through the door and entered the attic. The room spanned the entire width of the house, the black ceiling beams matched the tiles under my feet, the walls dark grey and covered with various pieces of equipment and restraints. There were chains, whips, canes, paddles everywhere, some discarded on the floor, as if thrown in temper. I shuddered as I stepped over them.

Did she use any of this stuff on José, when she kept him here?

"I promise there will be nothing black and white in our home once we've redecorated," Christian announced. I looked back at him. He was wide-eyed and shaking his head. "I'm going to change my office, too. Even I'm starting to feel uncomfortable by all of this."

I crossed the length of the attic, my feet taking me over to the large birdcage like contraption suspended from the rafters. I knew exactly what it was for and who had been kept prisoner in there.

Christian came up behind me and slipped his hands around my waist, his front pressing into my back. He touched a light kiss on the back of my head.

"On the other side there's all the tattooing equipment she used on José," he whispered. I nodded. I had glimpsed them a moment ago, laying on the floor by the doorway. "I think I saw some needles too."

"She injected him, didn't she?" I mumbled. "Heroin?"

"Yes. She kept him comatose," he hummed. "As far as I know, his doctors have got him clean and he doesn't have withdrawal symptoms anymore."

"That's something, I guess…"

I leaned back into his hold, dropping my head against his chest.

"I hope she's wasting away," I groaned. "And that worms are feasting on her remains."

"She was cremated," he said. "The police arranged it."

"They told you that?"

"She made me her next-of-kin and beneficiary," he reminded me. "I told them to do whatever the hell they wanted with her. I didn't give a shit. I asked them to dump her ashes in the trash. It's what she deserved."

I hoped the police fulfilled his request. That woman wasn't worth any pomp or ceremony.

"Do you know what happened to Leila?" I tentatively asked.

"No," he sighed. He rested his chin on my shoulder. "But I can find out, if you want?"

I nodded. "She was a victim, too."

"I guess."

"She said sorry before she died. She said sorry to me, for what she had done."

"She did?"

"She finally realised what Elena was doing," I explained. "When she found out Elena had abused you when you were a kid, that's when Leila went psycho. She started the fire, but before she stepped into the flames she apologised to me."

"Why the hell didn't she set you free?" he grumbled. "She could have gotten you out of there."

"She wasn't well," I shook my head. "She wasn't able to think clearly. I don't hold a grudge against her for what happened that day. Elena was responsible for everything that happened, nobody else."

He held me for a moment longer, his hands pressing deep into my stomach, pinning me to him as he nuzzled his face into the side of my neck.

"Are you ready to leave now?" he asked.

"Yes," I croaked. "I think I've seen everything I needed to. I got what I came for."

* * *

Christian slammed the door shut, turned his back on the house and walked down the drive towards me. I waited by the passenger door, leaning against it.

He glanced over his shoulder, looking up at the house one last time.

"I'm never coming back here," he said. "My lawyer can deal with it. I'm done with Elena and everything remotely connected to her."

I held out my hands to him. My skin prickled as he settled his palms into mine.

"Are you okay?"

"Fine," he nodded. "You?"

"Fine," I smiled. "I don't feel like a giant weight has been lifted, but I guess at some point I'll realise how pivotal this afternoon is."

"It's hard to get the significance of the moment while you're in it?" he guessed.

"It's like there's a disconnect between my brain and body," I nodded. "I'm kinda waiting for my body to catch up."

He leaned forward and kissed me, soft and light.

"I imagine that's how I'll feel later," he mumbled to himself as he popped open my door.

* * *

We were met by Taylor the moment we arrived back at Escala and stepped out of the elevator. Christian narrowed his eyes.

"Is everything okay?" he checked.

Taylor gave a quick nod, settling any doubts.

"It's done," he said, holding Christian's stare for a moment.

Christian cracked a smile and reached out, patting Taylor on the shoulder. He thanked him, the pair sharing a silent look before Taylor turned on his heels and walked the length of the penthouse, heading towards his and Mrs Jones's apartment.

I sidled up beside Christian and nudged him with my elbow.

"What was that about? What's he done?"

"He destroyed Elena's notebook," he explained, tilting his chin down to me. His smile was lingering, his expression surprisingly relaxed in comparison to the tension visible in his shoulders. "I asked him to get rid of it."

"Oh, right," I mouthed. "You didn't want to get rid of it yourself?"

He shook his head.

"I didn't want to spend another second with that fucking book." He blew out a long breath. "And I didn't want to be there to see it burn."

"Taylor set it on fire?"

"I thought it would be a nice touch," he hummed, nodding his head. He shrugged. "Let it go the same way as its maker… It was Jake who asked me to get rid of it. He doesn't want it out there for anyone else to read."

"I understand," I smiled.

And I did. This is their story to tell, if or when they want to. After everything they have been through, they deserve to have full and complete control over who knows about their trauma.

I edged forward and sank into his arms, tucking my hands underneath his shirt to feel the contours of his spine. I rested my ear against his chest, listening to the hard and fast beat of his heart.

"What's wrong?" I whispered. "You're on edge."

"I know I am," he grumbled. He exhaled another sigh. "I thought going to her house would be tough but… _Jesus Christ_ …"

"Is it bringing back memories?"

"No, it's not that," he said. He wrapped his arms around me and planted a kiss on the top of my head. "I was fine at her house. It was creepy and weird being back there, but I'm okay. It's just… It's this next part that's got me freaking out a little."

I leaned my head back and frowned, feeling confused.

"I'm going to need your help," he muttered.

"Of course," I quickly nodded. "Whatever you need, you know I'm here for you."

His shoulders dropped a fraction, his jaw unclenching.

"I've, um…" he cleared his throat. "I've asked my parents to come over. It's time they knew the truth."

"You're going to tell them about Elena?"

"I have to," he nodded. "I can't run away from it forever, can I? Sooner or later it will come out and it's better they hear it from me. But I really need you here with me. I'm not sure I can do this on my own."

I lifted up onto my toes and found his lips, offering him a full and passionate kiss. I hoped whatever strength I had found within me today was being transferred into him.

"I'll be right here with you," I assured him. "You won't be on your own, I promise."

He closed his eyes and I could tell he was trying to keep a lid on his emotions. He wasn't just ripping off a band-aid today, he was bearing the darkest parts of him and opening himself up for judgement.

I had always been in awe of him and his tremendous bravery, but that feeling has tripled now. It's off the scale.

"You're never going to be on your own again," I whispered, my lips lightly brushing over his as I spoke. "You'll always have me, no matter what."


	40. Chapter Thirty Nine

**Hello Lovelies,**

 **Sorry I haven't been active for a while. It's been a difficult few weeks for me. One of my relatives passed away at the start of this month and it hit me really hard. In the midst of grieving, I couldn't bring myself to edit this emotionally charged chapter.**

 **But, now the funeral is out of the way and I have finally stopped crying nonstop, I've managed to pull this together. I hope you like it.**

 **Thank you again for sticking with me. It's been a horrible year but I'm looking forward and staying optimistic that better times are on the horizon.**

 **Much Love,**

 **Chelsea x**

* * *

"Is it just your parents coming over tonight?"

Christian turned his chin to me and slowly nodded. His eyes were heavily creased and narrow, his expression darkening by the second.

We were perched on the edge of a couch in the sitting area, both nervously facing the elevator, waiting for it to ping and mark the moment his family's life would change forever. I could hardly sit still, my knees constantly bobbing up and down. Christian wrung his hands together, his jaw clenching over and over.

"I need to tell Grace and Carrick first," he explained in a low, gruff tone. "It's more important they know now. I can talk to Mia later."

"You're going to tell Mia, too?" I asked, my brows lifting high up my forehead.

"She's my sister," he shrugged.

"I know, but I didn't think you would –"

"I'm done with secrets," he shook his head. "She'll know something is up and I can't expect my parents to keep it from her. So, I'll tell Mia next and make sure she's in the loop too."

"That'll be a tough conversation," I observed on a shallow hum.

"No tougher than telling my parents," he sighed. "But Elliot said he'll help me talk to Mia."

"Does Elliot know everything about you and Elena?"

"When you were in hospital after the fire, I broke down and told him everything," he nodded. "How it started, what she did to me, the lifestyle, the subs… He knows it all."

I sucked in a sharp breath, surprise thumping me in the centre of my chest. I hadn't expected him to share all the sordid details with his brother. I thought there would be some limits to his honesty.

"He didn't judge, didn't really ask too many questions either," he said. He exhaled a small snort. "But he did call me a kinky bastard for enjoying aspects of that lifestyle."

I chuckled under my breath.

 _Good ol' Elliot…_

"I asked him to take Mia, Gran and Grandpa out for dinner," Christian revealed. "Keep them busy and out of the way, in case things end badly here."

"Will you tell Theo and Frances?"

"No," he shook his head, defiantly. "They don't need to know. It'll only upset them and I can't bear the idea of them worrying about me… Besides, they didn't even know Elena. I would have to go right back to the beginning and I don't want to rake over old ground. Not if I don't have to."

"Okay," I nodded. I stretched across and wrapped my hand around his. "You know I'll never say a word – to them or anyone else. My lips are sealed."

A slow, easy smile crept over his mouth, making his eyes light up behind the darkness engulfing him.

"I know," he hummed. He twisted his body towards me and leaned over, bringing his lips to mine. His kiss was gentle but electric, sending a shiver down my spine. "I know I can trust you. I've always known it."

"Did I ever get around to signing that NDA? I can't remember…" I teased, winking at him.

"I don't know. I destroyed all of the paperwork," he smirked. He rubbed the tip of his nose against mine. "The contracts we made up, the NDA… We didn't any of need it."

"We got there in the end, didn't we?" I grinned.

"And I'm so fucking glad we did."

Our kiss deepened for a moment before we were pulled apart by the sound of the elevator chiming, the doors sliding open with a whoosh.

I stared him in the eye and squeezed his hand.

"Are you ready?"

"As I'll ever be," he mumbled. "Promise you'll stay with me?"

"I'm not going anywhere. It's us against the world, yeah?"

He blew out a sigh of relief and rose from the couch, reeling his shoulders back as he prepared to greet his parents.

"Show time."

* * *

The four of us moved through to the television room. I prayed the slightly less sterile environment would help matters. Cosy, comfortable – that's what was needed. This was possibly the only room in the whole apartment that actually feels homely, something I hoped to change in the near future. I wanted the entire place to be like stepping into a warm hug, not a laboratory.

Grace shifted to the edge of the couch she and Carrick were sitting on, and stretched forward to place her half-empty mug of coffee on the table separating us. She looked as immaculate as ever, despite having come straight from work. Her sandy hair was swept back into a tight bun, her face clear and makeup free.

I felt tension rise in my shoulders as I glanced between her and Carrick, knowing their carefree smiles would soon be wiped from their faces.

"What's wrong?" Grace asked, fixing her steely gaze on Christian. She grinned at him. "I know you didn't invite us over for coffee and a catch up, and I know when something is bothering you. So, spill."

Christian dipped his head to the floor and exhaled a long, deep breath. He rubbed his cheek, grabbing a second of hesitation.

"Christian?" Carrick said his name, his voice laced with concern. His brows lowered around his eyes. "Is there… Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Christian grunted. He raised his head and looked over at his parents. "I'm okay. You don't need to worry about me, and I really need you to remember that after I've explained everything to you. I need you both to know I'm doing okay."

I watched Carrick's throat bob. Grace clapped her hand on his knee, her knuckles quickly turning white as she gripped his leg.

I could tell they were both imagining the worst.

And, yet, they'd still be way off the mark on this one.

"I invited you over to talk about some things," Christian began. His words were shaky and quiet, his nervousness seeping through. "Important things. There's stuff you need to know that I've been cagey about until now. And for good reason, too."

"Christian?" Grace breathed, staring him in the eye.

"I wasn't ready to tell you before," he rambled, shaking his head. "I didn't want to upset either of you. I still don't, and I know you're going to hate what I have to tell you."

"Son, you're really starting to worry me now," Carrick blurted. "What's going on? What is it you need to talk to us about?"

Christian licked his lips and closed his eyes, readying himself.

I wanted to wrap my arms around him and take over, but I couldn't. I couldn't do this for him. Nobody could.

It has to come from him.

"Elena," he answered, cold and low. "I need to talk to you about Elena."

"What about her?" Carrick frowned.

"It's time you knew the truth," Christian said. "About why she set out to destroy me, why she tried to kill Ana… and the truth about the nature of my friendship with her."

His attention shifted to Grace and I instantly recalled the harsh words they had shared just a few weeks back. Grace had tried to get information out of him, desperate to understand why I ended up in hospital and Elena ended up dead. Christian had stood his ground, while Grace got upset about being kept in the dark.

I don't think anybody could fault her for being angry, or even for pestering him over it – what mother wouldn't be concerned and confused that her former best friend had tried to murder her son's girlfriend?

The gut-wrenching thing is, though, I'm not sure she will want to hear the truth. Once the truth is out, it can't be taken back. They can never unhear what Christian has to tell them.

"There's no easy way to talk about this," Christian gulped. He shook his head, his discomfort growing. I mirrored Grace's movements by putting my hand on his thigh, gently massaging my reassurance into him. "But, um, I was a lot closer to Elena than you were led to believe."

"What do you mean?" Carrick asked.

"We weren't just business partners."

"You became friends," Grace nodded, as if she already understood what he meant. "We know that, and it didn't bother us. What she did across your father was between her and us. It didn't involve you."

"That's not what I'm talking about," Christian mumbled. "What I mean is… _Shit_. For a time, we were more than friends. Our relationship was intimate."

Grace snapped her head back, her expression contorting in on itself.

" _Intimate?_ " she repeated. "What do you mean by intimate?"

Christian stared at her.

"Did you flirt with each other?"

"It was sexual," he blurted. He cringed, a shudder pulsing through him. "We weren't in a proper relationship. We weren't boyfriend or girlfriend. It wasn't anything like that."

"You had an affair with her?" Carrick grumbled, huffing under his breath.

"In a way, yes."

"When?"

"Years ago."

"While she was married to Richard?"

Christian nodded.

"Is that why Richard left her? Because you and her were together?"

"Dad, it –"

"I know you were only in your early twenties back then, but Jesus Christ," Carrick continued, shaking his head in disapproval. "You were old enough to know better than to get involved with a married woman… She was more than double your age, for crying out loud. She's the same age as your mother!"

Christian bowed his head, his cheeks burning up. He turned his chin to me and slowly shook his head, silently telling me he couldn't do this.

"It's okay," I whispered to him. "You're doing great. You've got this."

He sucked in a sharp breath, keeping his face to me as he spoke.

"It started before Linc left her," he admitted, his eyes fixed on mine. "Years before."

"W-What?" Grace choked.

"Christian –" Carrick grunted his name. He leaned forward on his seat. "Look at me. Please?"

Slowly, Christian rolled his head to the side and glimpsed over at his father.

"How old were you?"

"Dad –"

"How old?" Carrick urged, raising his voice. "How old were you when the affair started?"

There was a tense pause before Christian opened his mouth again.

"I was fifteen," he muttered. "It began shortly after I started going over to her house on the weekends."

Nobody moved.

Not even a breath was taken.

It seemed like no one dared break the stillness in fear the world would cave in around us.

Suddenly, Carrick jumped to his feet. He was shaking his head, clenching his jaw hard.

"Fifteen?" he repeated. "Are you kidding? Tell me you're kidding?"

"No," Christian replied. His eyes dropped to the floor again. "I was fifteen. She came onto me. She caught me stealing money from her purse and then she kissed me. It progressed quickly from there."

"Jesus…"

Carrick turned his back on the room and paced away from the couches, heading over to the television.

I glanced at Grace and saw her motionless, gawping at Christian with glassy eyes. Her face had paled, the colour draining from her usually rosy cheeks.

"Are you the reason Richard divorced her?" Carrick asked.

"Yes," Christian replied. "She told him about us. He went crazy. Instead of coming after me, he attacked her. You know how things turned out from there."

"Did he assault her because she cheated or because you were a child?"

"I don't know," Christian shrugged. "I never asked any questions."

"When did it end? Between you and her?"

"Before she told Linc. I ended it a couple months earlier."

"So it was going on for years? Five, six years?"

"Cary –" Grace interjected. Her eyes closed and she gently shook her head. "Cary, stop."

"Mom?" Christian said, trying to get her attention.

When they finally met each other's gaze, he slid off the couch and crawled over to her. He cupped her hands in his.

"Mom, I'm sorry. I know I should have told you sooner, but I didn't know how."

"I don't…" she trailed off. Tears began streaming down her face. "I-I don't know what to say…"

"Neither do I," Christian sighed. "I didn't know it was wrong, what she was doing to me. I thought it was okay. I didn't understand it back then."

Grace let out a whimper.

"She made you think it was okay?" she sniffed. Christian nodded. "Oh god… All that time? She was doing _that_ to you? Hurting you?"

Christian shuddered at her question. I could tell he wasn't prepared to delve into the details. He found it hard enough talking to me about it sometimes.

"I never suspected anything," Grace shook her head. "I've seen kids who have been… I've treated those kids. But my son?"

"She told me it had to remain a secret," he explained. "She said no one would understand. It made sense to me at the time."

"How in the world did it make sense?" Carrick snapped, spinning on his heels. "Why would you keep it a secret? Something as serious as that? We're your parents. You could talk to us about anything. You knew that."

"How exactly was I supposed to tell you I had started having sex with someone?" Christian shot back, keeping his eyes on Grace. "Let alone reveal that the person I was sleeping with was Mom's best friend? That's not the kind of conversation you can have over the dinner table, is it?"

He lifted his chin and briefly stared up at his father.

"I should rephrase that," he said. "I wasn't sleeping with her. I wasn't even having sex with her. She was raping me."

Carrick gulped. His lips parted, but nothing came out.

"She abused me," Christian continued. "I can wrap it up anyway you want, but the facts remain the same. She preyed on me. She chose me and went out of her way to get what she wanted. That's why she tried to hurt Ana."

"What do you mean?" Grace asked quietly.

"She wanted me out of the way," I said, speaking up for the first time. "She wanted Christian to herself again. She'd been manipulating him for years, getting involved in his businesses, his personal life… She didn't like the fact me and him were together because it meant she wasn't as close to him."

"She tried to break us up," Christian added. "But it didn't work. She couldn't break us up, so she decided to try to get rid of Ana altogether. She set everything up, making it look like Ana's friend was stalking her, trying to make it seem like he caused the fire and killed them both because he was desperate to have her. She planned everything. All because she wanted me. She couldn't handle the fact I had distanced myself from her."

"I can't believe this," Carrick sighed. His hands were limp by his sides, his fingers trembling. "I can't… I would have known…"

"The only way you would have known is if you caught us together," Christian huffed. "She groomed me to keep it quiet. She knew what she was doing. You didn't know her like I did. All you saw was a front. Her disguise."

"Cary, please sit down," Grace pleaded with him.

"We would have known if something was going on," Carrick persisted. "You're our son."

"I know you're shocked, Dad, but –"

"Shocked?" he repeated. He shook his head hard. "That's the understatement of the bloody century!"

"People like Elena don't just groom their victims," Christian tried to explain. "They target the entire family. They integrate themselves, befriend the parents to gain trust. They do whatever they have to do to make sure you don't suspect a thing. Elena knew what she was doing. She messed with your head too."

Carrick's chin wobbled. I could see the realisation starting to hit him.

"I wasn't her only victim, either," Christian added. "There's never just one victim."

"There were other children?" Grace gulped, reeling back in her seat with disgust. "Other boys?"

Christian nodded.

"My god…" she breathed, sinking her head into her hands. "Oh my god. How the hell did we miss this? How did I miss this?"

Christian shuffled forward and raised up onto his knees. He opened his arms and pulled Grace into his embrace, hugging her while she began to sob. Though her voice was muffled, I could hear her constant, unrelenting apologies.

Carrick stood where he was, unable to move, just staring down at his wife and son. I wanted to say something to him, but I didn't know exactly what.

Before I could figure it out, he turned and exited the room, shaking his head as he left.

My heart sank into my stomach.

* * *

An hour had passed and the apartment was bathed in an eerie, tense silence that made my stomach churn. I left the television room and went in search of Carrick. He hadn't made another appearance and I could tell it was starting to bother Christian, the way he kept looking to the door and waiting – hoping – to see his father enter back through it.

I found Carrick in the kitchen, sitting at the breakfast counter, his head buried in his hands.

I stopped by the bar in the sitting area and poured him a Scotch, before approaching him from over his left shoulder and placing the glass down in front of him.

He raised his head and glanced at me, his tired and watery gaze latching onto mine. He gave me a single nod of thanks as he lifted the glass to his lips and knocked it back.

"Christian's still with Grace," I explained. "They're talking."

I pulled out the stool next to him and climbed up onto it.

"Grace has always been better at talking to the kids than me," he hummed. He began rubbing his forehead, his eyes tightly closed. "I don't know how she does it. I'm nothing like her."

"The world would be a boring place if we were all the same," I shrugged.

"You already knew?" he asked. "About all of this?"

"Yes," I nodded.

"Before the fire at the club? Before she tried to hurt you that day?"

"I've known since me and Christian got together," I revealed. He frowned. "It's not the kind of thing he could keep from me. Elena was my boss and she took an instant dislike to me. I found out they had history and when I asked him about it, he told me what had happened between them."

"Are you the first person he told?"

I shrugged again.

"His therapist knew, but I don't know if he told anyone else before me."

Carrick pursed his lips and dropped his focus to his empty glass. He ran his finger around the rim, tracing it in slow circles.

"I can't even begin to imagine what must be going through your head right now," I sighed. "And I hope to God I'll never find out for myself… but Christian had to tell you and Grace the truth. He couldn't keep this to himself any longer."

"Why didn't he say something sooner? Why now?"

"That's something you need to ask him," I said. "But I know that he wants to move on with his life. He doesn't want there to be any more secrets. He's had years of keeping everything bottled up, it's time he let go and starts healing."

"I knew there was something he wasn't telling us, but this?" he shook his head. "I never imagined this. I assumed it was because of money. I thought maybe Elena had tried blackmailing him and that's why she did what she did."

"Both you and Grace were trying to make sense of it, without knowing the full story," I nodded. "I'm sure you must have conjured up a million different reasons for why she tried to hurt me."

He snorted his agreement.

"Christian had to get to a place where he felt ready to tell you," I mumbled. "He had to make that decision for himself."

"She used to be our friend," he muttered under his breath. "She was practically family. There was never anything that I thought was out of the ordinary."

"You heard what Christian said," I told him. I rested my hand on his upper arm, drawing his gaze back to me. I could see him slowly falling apart under the weight of the news. "Elena made sure you and Grace would never find out what she was doing. She planned everything meticulously, every last detail to keep it a secret. She manipulated all of you."

He didn't react.

I wasn't sure if he was really taking in what I was telling him, but I needed him to realise one very important fact.

"Carrick, regardless of what you're thinking and feeling right now, Christian needs your support," I said firmly. "I won't sit here and tell you how you should be reacting, but I am going to tell you that your son desperately needs your support and reassurance. He's going through hell right now."

"What –"

"Do you have any idea how much strength it's taken for him to reveal this to you?" I ploughed on. "He's been putting it off for ages, but today we went to Elena's house. We looked around inside and when we came out, he made the decision to talk to you and Grace. Something changed in him, but I know he's struggling. He doesn't like talking about deep, personal stuff. He finds it really hard yet, in spite of that, he has pushed himself to make sure he told you the truth. He's way out of his comfort zone."

Carrick stared me in the eye, the shape of his starting to soften around the edges.

"What he needs is to know you believe him," I added. "He needs to know you're not going to call him a liar."

"I believe him," he quickly said. He shook his head, looking at me as if I had just said the most absurd thing in the world. "Of course, I believe him."

"You have to tell him that. Make sure he hears those words," I urged. "Because you walked out on him in there. That's going to mess with his head. You know he doesn't process things the way most people do. He internalises everything."

"I just…" he sighed, shaking his head as he sank back on his stool. "I didn't know what to do. I felt like screaming… I'm so angry, Ana. I'm angry at myself."

I didn't say anything. There was nothing I could say.

It wasn't my place to apportion blame, I'm just an outsider.

"Tonight is the start of this conversation, for all of you," I said. "There's so much all of you will need to talk about, so many questions that will need answering. I know you'll get through it, you're one of the strongest family's I know, but that's not to say it won't be hard."

"How did we miss it?" he groaned. "I don't understand how he kept this to himself."

"At first, it was because he didn't think there was anything wrong with what Elena did to him," I explained. Carrick raised his brows in horror. "She made him think it was normal and perfectly okay. It's only in the last few months he's started to realise it was abuse. Since he's started processing that, I think it was fear stopping him from telling you."

"Why would he be scared? Elena's dead."

"I think he was scared of yours and Grace's reaction," I mumbled. "He doesn't want to disappoint or upset either of you. You both mean the world to him. He loves you so much, and the last thing he wanted was for you to think he was dirty."

Something clicked in my mind as I said that. I hadn't made the connection before.

I've noticed a habit forming when Christian comes home from a session with Flynn. He is always on edge and a little angry, staying silent for a while. But as soon as he comes through the door, he heads straight for the bathroom and jumps in the shower. I've seen him, standing under the boiling hot water, scrubbing at his body until his skin is bright red.

I thought it was because he had been talking about his childhood, his birth mother and the pimp, but now I realise it was thoughts of Elena that made him want to scrub himself clean.

He thinks he's dirty.

"He did nothing wrong," Carrick said, frowning at me. "What happened to him wasn't his fault. There's nothing dirty about him."

"Tell him that," I begged. I felt the back of my eyes begin to sting. "Please, tell him that… Remind him that you love him. Don't show him pity or treat him any differently, because he'll hate that."

He managed a weak smile as he agreed with the sentiment, knowing how Christian gets.

"He really needs his mom and dad," I croaked, my own tears starting to make an appearance. "There's only so much I can offer him. Right now he needs to know that you're on his side."

Carrick stared me in the eye for a moment and I thought I saw something flicker through his gaze, as if something had come together in his mind. He slowly nodded and reached up to where my hand was resting on his arm.

"Thank you," he muttered, giving my fingers a light squeeze. He gulped hard. "It's just so…"

"I know," I nodded. "It's a lot to take in. But you need to remember that this is about him now. He's the one who is suffering."

Carrick nodded again and swivelled on his stool, stepping down.

I followed suit but stopped in my tracks, finding Christian standing in the archway to the kitchen. He was hovering on the threshold, his hands hanging limp by his sides. I wasn't sure if he had heard our conversation.

"I'm going to make some more coffee," he whispered, glancing between me and his father. He gestured behind him. "Mom's still in there. She said she needed a minute alone."

He didn't move, just remained rooted to the spot. He was unsure, hesitating, like a lost boy waiting to be told what he should do next.

"Son –"

Carrick began shuffling over to him, closing the gap between them. He opened out his arms and secured them around Christian, yanking him into a bear hug.

"I'm so sorry," Christian sighed, dropping his head onto Carrick's shoulder. "I'm sorry."

"You have nothing to apologise for," Carrick grunted. "Nothing. You hear me? Nothing at all."

"I never wanted you to find out. But I can't –"

"I'm the one who should be apologising," Carrick interrupted. He gripped the back of Christian's head, holding him as close as he could. "Sorry for the way I reacted, sorry for what you went through… sorry for not protecting you."

I turned away from them, needing a second to compose myself. I was on the brink of falling apart.

"Are you disappointed in me?"

"No," Carrick replied instantly. "God no! The way I behaved, it's just shock."

"But you're angry."

"With that evil bitch, not you," he said. "I could never be angry with you. I love you too much."

"Dad –"

"You mean the world to me," he continued. I couldn't bring myself to look at them. My eyes were flooding with tears, despite my best efforts to blink them back. "You always have. Ever since I first laid eyes on you, when you were sitting up in that hospital bed – right then, in that moment, my world changed. There is nothing that could ever change the way I feel about you. You're my son. My son. My little boy."

Christian sniffed. I didn't need to look at him to know he was crying.

"I'm so proud of you," Carrick whimpered. "Of everything you've accomplished, of the man you have turned in to… I'm not going to pretend like I understand what you've been through, because I have a lot of questions racing through my mind, but I'll do whatever it takes. Whatever you need from me."

"Just hold me," Christian begged. "Tell me everything is going to be okay?"

"It will," Carrick promised.

I opened my eyes and twisted to glance over to them. Through my blurry gaze, I saw them still embracing, holding each other up.

"We'll work through this as a family," Carrick added. "You're not on your own anymore. You'll never be on your own again."

* * *

I slid my phone down onto the kitchen counter and stared at the three Greys lined up opposite me. Christian was sat in the middle, Grace to his left and Carrick on his right. They were each nursing a glass of wine, though Grace's drink was significantly fuller than the guys' glasses.

"I've ordered take-out," I told them. "I went with pizza. I wasn't sure what everyone would want, so I ordered a couple different options."

"Pizza's fine," Carrick nodded at me. "Thank you."

"We have to eat," I said, my eyes instantly drifting over to Christian. He gave me a taut, knowing smile. "Um, do you want me to give you some more time alone?"

I had allowed the three of them to talk in private, their conversation taking over the kitchen once Grace had joined us. Christian had given me the okay to leave them to it, strong enough to handle the talks on his own by that point. I wasn't sure what they had spoken about, but by the looks of it they had dug deep into some harder topics.

They all looked exhausted and drained, but Grace appeared the worse of the three of them.

I watched her for a moment, her eyes starting to become watery as she peered into her wine.

"I'm so sorry," she muttered, shaking her head.

Christian turned to her, his brows low around his eyes.

"I never suspected anything," she said. She inhaled a shaky breath. "I didn't spot the signs."

"It's not your fault," Christian told her. He wrapped his arm around the back of her shoulders and pulled her into his side.

"I'm trained to spot the signs," she shook her head. "I know what to look out for… Changes in behaviour, becoming more secretive –"

"You were blindsided," he interrupted her. "You both were. I was a pain in the ass and you were just looking for ways to get me back on the straight and narrow."

"I should have known something was wrong when you stopped acting out," she muttered, closing her eyes. "I thought it was a good thing. Oh god… I sent you to her. I gave you over to her."

"Please, stop blaming yourself," Christian pleaded. "You couldn't have known what was happening. Why do you think she probably befriended you in the first place?"

"But I'm your mother. It's my job to know these things."

"You're not psychic."

"I promised I would keep you safe," she blurted, heaving a cry. "I made you that promise when you came into the hospital. I promised I would make sure no one ever hurt you again."

"Mom, please –"

"I failed you," she shook her head. She swivelled on her stool and wrapped her arms around his waist, burying her face in the centre of his chest. "I'm sorry. Please, forgive me. I'm so sorry."

Christian eased back and stared down at his mother. He held her cheek in his hand, forcing her to look up at him.

"I'm not mad at you," he said. "I don't blame you. I don't blame anyone but Elena for what happened. I'm not pinning the blame on you or Dad. I just wanted to be honest about everything."

"You're my baby boy," she whispered.

"I still am," he assured her. "And I always will be. Please, stop crying. It's killing me."

"The thought of someone – anyone – hurting you like that…" she trailed off, closing her eyes at the horrors flooding her mind. "All I've tried to do is protect you, but I didn't do that."

"You did protect me," Christian protested. "Mom, you gave me a loving and stable home. You made sure I knew I was safe with you guys. You put up with all my crap and never once walked away from me."

Carrick shifted uncomfortably on his stool. He picked up his glass and drained the rest of his wine, shame marking his sour expression.

"You never gave up on me," Christian continued. "You could have given up, but you didn't. A lot of people probably would have, but not you guys. You saw something in me."

"I saw my son," she replied.

Christian leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her forehead.

"Don't look at me like I'm a different person to who I was before tonight," he begged. "I don't want babying. I don't need your apologies or sympathy. I just want my parents."

He twisted towards Carrick.

"I need both of you," he said, looking between them. "More now than ever. I'm still trying to process everything myself, and I really need all the support I can get."

"You've got us," Carrick nodded. He met Christian's eye. "Whatever you need, you've got it."

Christian gulped and pursed his lips for a moment.

"I've been thinking about something," he breathed, biting down on his lip. "I know there are other victims and I've already spoken to them or their families. I felt like it was my job to see if they were doing okay… I did what I could, but I'm not equipped to help people like me. I don't know what I'm doing."

The three of us stared at him, none of us quite sure where he was going with this.

"I'm not a therapist," he continued. "All I can do is throw money at problems and hope it helps. That's what I've always done."

"Christian, what are you talking about?" Grace asked.

"Coping Together," he said. "I've lost track of how much money I've donated over the years. Enough for you and Dad to make me an ambassador for the foundation."

"It's a cause close to our hearts," Grace nodded. "Helping families affected by addiction and poverty."

"I want to expand the services we offer," Christian revealed. "You started the foundation because of what I went through before you adopted me. It's safe to say everything connected to the charity is based around me and my experiences, right?"

His parents nodded.

"Well, I want to offer help to survivors of childhood sexual abuse," he explained. "I can't even begin to fathom how many people have been through something similar to me. It must be in the millions. But if we can help just one family –"

"It's a great idea," Grace agreed, sniffing back her tears. "Isn't it, Cary?"

"It is," Carrick smiled, shyly. "We'll put the plans in motion as soon as you're ready, son. You can spearhead the whole thing."

"Thanks," Christian smiled. "I feel like I need to help people."

"You always have," Carrick hummed. He patted Christian on the shoulder. "Even as a little kid, you were the first to help others. You used to give up your toys to Elliot and Mia without a second's hesitation. It didn't matter what you had, you were happy to share it."

"Just not where food was concerned," Christian snorted, though his voice was edged with heartache.

"There were a few times we were worried we might end up with rats," Carrick chuckled, lightening the mood. "You did like to hide food under your bed. There was almost an entire fridge worth of food under there at one point!"

Christian cracked a wide grin, laughing with his father.

"How did you put up with me?" he asked, shaking his head.

"It wasn't a case of putting up with you," Carrick dismissed the question. "It was about loving you with all our hearts. When you love someone, you see past their quirks and problems. You see the person who makes you feel complete inside."

Christian slowly raised his eyes to me and I nodded.

He understood. He finally got it.

* * *

Grace and Carrick left around 11pm. The evening passed in waves of intensity and calmness, a few laughs being shared before another bout of tears emerged. We ate dinner and vegged out on the couches, talking about all manner of different things until the close of the evening. I imagined life would be like this for a while, for Christian and his parents, but I already knew they would find a way through this. It would take time and probably a lot more tears, but they would get there. One way or another.

I locked up and shuffled on through to the bedroom, closing the door behind me. Christian was already sitting on the edge of the bed, wearing just his black boxer briefs and a dark grey t-shirt. He was messing around with his phone.

"What are you doing?" I asked as I walked over to the closet, disappearing inside to change into my pyjamas.

"Texting Flynn," he called out to me. "I think it might help if my parents meet with him. Maybe we can go to a group session or something?"

I smiled to myself.

"That sounds like a great idea," I said.

I pulled on a pair of flannel pyjama pants and a white cami, and tugged my hair into a top knot. As I stood in front of my dressing table, I stared at the envelope that had been sitting on top of it for more than a week.

I hadn't given much thought to it, it had completely slipped my mind, but now I knew exactly what I should do.

I carried the envelope over to Christian, and I stood directly in front of him.

"I want you to have this," I declared, offering him the envelope.

"Huh?" he hummed, glancing up from his phone and instantly frowning at my hand. He dropped his phone onto the bedside counter and took the envelope, turning it over to open it. "What's this?"

I let him figure it out for himself.

He removed the check from inside and read it, his frown deepening.

"But this has your name on it?" he muttered. He shook his head. "Why are you giving me this?"

"It's the money Elliot managed to get from selling my old car," I explained. "And I want to donate it to Coping Together."

He jerked his head back, his eyes widening.

"Ana, no, this is your money, you –"

"And I can do whatever I want with it," I said, adamantly. "I don't need that kind of money. It'd just be sitting in a bank somewhere, untouched. At least this way it can be used. Like you said, there are millions of families who could benefit from this."

"But –"

"No buts," I shook my head. "Take the money and put it to good use. I'm not sure how far $18,000 will spread but it should help someone."

"It'd helped a lot of people," he hummed to himself. He stared at the check again and gulped. "I don't know what to say. Ana, this is…"

"I don't need it," I affirmed. "Money doesn't mean anything to me because I've got the most important thing sitting right in front of me."

I stepped forward and brushed his hair back from his forehead.

"We're in this together," I told him. "Whatever decisions you make, whatever projects you're involved in, I want to be a part of it. All of it. I want to stand by your side through everything."

He raised his watery eyes to mine, blinking slowly as a few tears began to trickle down his cheeks. Bowing his head, he hunched forward and nuzzled his face into my stomach.

"I couldn't have got through tonight without you," he mumbled. "I couldn't get through life without you."

"You'd find a way," I whispered. "I know you would. You're a survivor."

I leaned down and kissed the back of his head.

"But you'll never have to wonder how you'd cope without me," I assured him. "Because I'm not going anywhere."

I repeated my protestation for the millionth time, but the weight behind my words didn't lose any significance. Each time I tried to assure him I wasn't going anywhere, I said it with the same degree of honesty and promise. My place in the world is next to him.

He is my world.

Christian pulled back and gripped my waist, yanking me onto his lap and making me straddle him. He rubbed the tip of his nose against mine.

"Will you accept the money?" I asked. "My donation?"

His lips curled into a slight smile.

"Only one condition," he bargained.

"Name it?"

"Kiss me."

I arched my brow. "A kiss in exchange for eighteen thousand dollars? Doesn't seem like a fair trade off to me."

"It is, believe me," he nodded. "Your kisses are priceless and I treasure each and every one."

I pressed my lips to his, soft and gentle, a feather-light touch. He released a quiet groan, the sound oozing from deep within his chest.

"Thank you," he sighed. His hands caressed the bottom of my spine, his palms flat against my skin. "You're incredible."

"And I'm all yours," I smiled.

"You have no idea how glad I am to hear that," he grinned from behind his lingering tears. "I can't put it into words."

"Then don't," I shrugged. Setting my hands on his shoulders, I pushed him down onto the bed. I hovered over him, our noses brushing. "Show me. Sometimes this is the only way to communicate."

I eased back against his hips and felt his boxers begin to strain against his growing erection.

"Sometimes it's the best way," he whispered. He raised his head to meet my lips, stealing a kiss. "It's our way."

"Just ours," I nodded. "Now shut up and make love to me."

"Yes, ma'am."


	41. Chapter Forty

**Hello Lovelies,**

 **Sorry it's been a while - I've been super busy with work lately and haven't had much time to actually sit down and write.**

 **I have, however, been plotting away. I know some of you are concerned that the end of this story is fast approaching... and it is! We have a couple more chapters to go _BUT THERE IS GOING TO BE A THIRD INSTALMENT!_ Happy dance anyone?**

 **I've decided to turn this series into a trilogy, so there will be another story following on from this. I love this version of Christian and Ana too much to let their story end here. I have bigger plans for them! You'll know more about the next story once this one has been completed.**

 **In the meantime, I hope you enjoy this chapter.**

 **Much Love,**

 **Chelsea x**

* * *

In the weeks since Christian told his parents what Elena had done to him as a child, there had been _a lot_ of ups and downs. More than I think anyone anticipated there being. I would be lying if I said it had been all sunshine and roses. I had witnessed many tears being shed, heard a lot of cursing and self-chastising, and had cleared up broken plates and glasses that had been thrown in anger.

But, finally, things were starting to ease up. At least where his parents were concerned.

Grace and Carrick seemed to be handling the news better, regularly joining Christian for his sessions with Flynn. They were still tiptoeing around him, still apologising for not knowing or doing something, as I imagined they would continue to for a long time to come. They still need to come to terms with it – the entire family does.

I had seen a change in Christian. Not in an altogether good way, I hate to admit. The frank and open discussions he was having with Flynn and his parents brought out his anger and frustrations. He has good days and bad, but it's during those bad days when he can be unbearable to be around. I have had to be on guard, not knowing what kind of mood he would be in from one minute to the next.

He never directed his anger at me, though. _Never_. But it has been difficult to see him lose his temper, knowing I couldn't take away the pain he was feeling. All I could do was simply be there for him.

Flynn assured me this was completely normal behaviour and that it would pass soon. He said he had seen Christian go through these fazes several times, and that his worst bout had lasted a couple of months. Thankfully, this episode appears to be fading. I've seen a calmer, more settled version of him in the last few days. I'm getting my man back.

Christian has spent a considerable amount of time with his family recently. If he isn't with Grace and Carrick, he's with Mia and Elliot. I feel like I've hardly seen him. Not that I begrudge him this. He's needed this bonding time with them.

He sat down with Mia and told her everything the day after he spoke to his parents. Elliot was with him, just the three of them present for that uncomfortable conversation. I was relieved when Christian later told me Mia had taken the news better than he expected. She was shocked and confused but as soon as she had composed herself, she hugged him. She told him she was sorry for what he had gone through, but that she loved him and was there for him. She told him nothing could change that.

My heart swelled with the knowledge that he was surrounded by love and support, and that he was allowing people in. He was letting his guard down.

"Are you seeing Mia again tonight?" I asked as we returned home late on Friday evening, the working week slipping off my shoulders as easily as my jacket.

"No, not tonight," Christian sighed. I glanced back at him and watched him stretching out his arms, extending the long, defined lines of his body as he yawned. "Tonight, I'm all yours, baby. My family has spent more than enough time with me lately."

"You know I don't mind you spending time with them," I said. I shuffled over and slipped my hands around his back. "I'm happy to share you. As long as you promise to come back to me afterwards."

"Always, my love…"

His lips curled into a light smile as he wrapped his arms around me, tugging me into his hold.

"I know you don't mind," he muttered. "But I feel like I'm neglecting you, and that makes me feel sad."

"Why?"

"Because I worry you might leave me," he shrugged.

My stomach clenched at the sadness suddenly creasing the corners of his eyes.

"I'm not neglected and I'm not going to leave you," I assured him. I grinned. "But I'm not going to turn down the opportunity of having you all to myself. Uninterrupted Christian time? Sounds perfect to me."

"How about uninterrupted, naked Christian time?"

My smile stretched higher, my flushed cheeks bunching.

"How quickly can you get your pants off?" I mused.

"About as quick as it'll take me to have you screaming the place down."

* * *

We showered together after working up a sweat against the bedroom door, the bathroom door, the edge of the bathtub, and the glass surround that frames the shower. By the end, we were practically holding each other up, our muscles like jelly. Standing under the warm water, we took it in turns to massage and clean each other's bodies, taking time to explore the familiar curves and contours we already know so intimately. It was gentle and pure, and exactly what we both needed.

Drying off, we changed into more comfortable attire. Christian opted for some grey sweats and a white t-shirt, while I settled on some tartan pyjama pants and a light blue camisole.

"I'll check what there is for dinner," he said, hovering behind me as I sat down at my dressing table, ready to dry my hair. He leaned forward and hugged me, planting a soft kiss to the top of my head. "Did you remember to eat lunch?"

"Mark and I had sushi," I nodded. "He sends his love, by the way."

"I'm sure that's not all he sends," he tutted, rolling his eyes as he exited the closet. "Can't blame him though, I am a catch."

I rough dried my hair with the towel, rubbing out as much excess water as possible before grabbing my dryer and blasting the tangled mess with scorching heat. After about ten minutes, I gave up and pulled my hair into a top-knot, the ends still damp and clinging together.

I looked in the mirror, just as Christian came back into view. He lingered by the door, a hand on either side of the frame.

His expression was a mix of confusion and apprehension. It unsettled me.

"What is it?" I asked, my brows sinking around my eyes. "Is something wrong?"

"We've got a guest," he replied.

I quickly turned on my stool.

"Well, there's someone here to see you," he clarified.

" _Me?_ "

I pushed off my seat and followed him out through the bedroom. I walked in his shadow, trudging behind as he moved over to the couches in the seating area.

I cautiously stepped around him and saw who was waiting for me.

I grabbed Christian's arm, my knees buckling under the shock jolting through my body.

" _José -_ "

My jaw dropped as he slowly raised his chin and met my eye. He was perched on the edge of the couch, his legs stretched out in front of him, his body hunched forward.

The first thing I noticed was how frail he looked. His face was gaunt, his once chubby cheeks now hollow and drained of colour. His hair was short, closely cropped, the floppy hair that used to hang in front of his eyes a distant memory. His clothes hung from his body, his impressive muscular build nowhere to be seen. It made my heart ache as I studied him.

 _Where has José gone?_

 _This isn't the same person…_

"Hi," he finally said, nodding at me. "Thanks for letting me in. I wasn't sure if you would want to see me."

I shook my head, unsure of what to say. A million words floated through my thoughts, but nothing made the journey to my lips.

"You're welcome," Christian replied.

His hand clasped my elbow and he guided me over to the couch adjacent to where José was. He gently sat me down on it.

"Can I get you something to drink?"

"Water, please," José nodded. He cleared his throat. "If that's okay?"

"Of course," Christian smiled. He turned his head to me. "Do you want a cup of tea?"

I nodded once.

He reached down and rubbed my shoulder before spinning on his heel, making his way to the kitchen, leaving me and José alone.

My wary gaze shifted to him.

"I figured you might be surprised to see me," José hummed in an oddly deep, unfamiliar tone. "I had no way of contacting you, so I thought I'd come here and see if you'd agree to see me."

"What… w-what are you doing here?" I asked, forcing the question out. "Why are you here?"

"I wanted to talk to you," he shrugged. "Set the record straight on a couple of things."

"Oh…"

He looked down at his legs and sighed, shaking his head.

"I got into a huge argument with Rachel," he huffed. He grimaced at the mention of his cousin. "I found out she has been lying to me… when I learned the truth, I had to come see you."

"I'm not following," I shook my head, confusion rippling through my brows. "What did you find out?"

"She told me you didn't care about me," he blurted. He lifted his dark eyes and stared back at me, his gaze full of sadness and pain. "When I was here, at that expensive medical centre? Rach said you didn't give a shit that I had been hurt, and that you hadn't bothered to check on me. She said she spoke to you and you told her you hated me. I thought you didn't care."

"That's not true!" I frantically shook my head. "I –"

"I know," he nodded. "She confessed what actually happened… She admitted she stopped you seeing me?"

"She told me you didn't want me there," I explained.

"You came to see me?"

"I went to the centre all the time. I'd sit and wait, hoping for some news or that someone would finally let me see you… I stopped going to the centre when Rachel shouted at me."

"I had no idea," he sighed, annoyed. "If I'd known you were there…"

He trailed off and licked his lips.

"She said you blamed me for what happened," I revealed in a whisper. He jerked his head up, his jaw starting to twitch. "I thought you hated me. Guess we were in the same boat on that one."

"I could never hate you," he shook his head. "God, I'm so fucking mad at her! She had no right to say any of that to you."

"I'm sure she had her reasons," I shrugged.

"She said she was trying to protect me," he growled.

"Sounds about right," I snorted. "She was always protective of you, especially when you were a kid. You're more like siblings than cousins."

"She isolated me from the one person I actually wanted to see," he shot back. "All I wanted was to see you. To talk about what happened. See if we could put all of that shit behind us and get back to how we used to be. Instead, I was left alone in that fucking room, thinking you hated me for the way I had acted toward you. I thought you were glad I had been hurt, that I deserved it after everything I'd done."

My stomach churned at the mention of how events had unfolded before the fire at Maîtrise.

All of it was just one huge mess.

"I never meant to hurt you, you know?" he mumbled. "I know I was out of line, but I was so…"

"Lonely?" I guessed.

"Yeah," he sighed, nodding. "I lost control. I spiralled, started drinking too much, pressuring you. I really screwed up. I know I did."

"What happened? Why did you spiral?"

"When you and Kate left to come here, I felt lost," he shrugged. "I never really got along with my roommates, didn't have any friends in any of my classes. I only had you two. I didn't want to go to classes anymore, didn't want to do anything. I fell behind, my grades went through the floor, I started arguing with Dad… Everything was falling apart. I didn't know how to get a grip. I was in a hole."

"And you latched onto me because you thought I would help you get better?"

He squinted and I knew instantly that I had slotted the pieces together for him. He slowly nodded.

"You figured it out a lot quicker than I did," he snorted under his breath. "I just knew I felt better when I was around you. You made me feel good about myself."

"I was a distraction," I said.

He nodded again.

"How do you know?"

"I've been having therapy myself," I explained. He eyed me with surprise. "I needed help after the fire. I started suffering from anxiety and panic attacks. My head was all over the place for a while."

"Me too," he said. He rubbed his palms together and I caught sight of the leathery skin around his wrists, the burns creeping into view. "It sucks, doesn't it?"

"Sure does," I hummed.

"Do you like your therapist?"

"She's great. I couldn't have asked for a better person to help pull me through this shitstorm."

"That's good," he smiled.

"Are you getting help now, wherever you are?"

"I am," he confirmed. "My new therapist is really good. His name is Andy. He's helping me break stuff down. I realise now I was suffering from depression long before any of that other shit happened."

"Did you actually have feelings for me?" I asked, tiptoeing around the elephant in the room.

"You know I did," he muttered, fixing me with his gaze. "I always liked you. I had a huge crush on you when we reunited in college. But it was never that intense, you know? Just kinda simmered in the background."

"Until you spiralled and then you became obsessed?"

"I was looking for a way out," he nodded. "I thought you were it, so I was desperate to make it happen. That's why I tried to kiss you at that party. That's why I got so pissed when I saw you and Christian kissing at my exhibit."

That night was as clear as day for me. Christian had arrived on the pretence of getting José to take some pictures for the GEH website, but he later cornered me outside and we ended up in a passionate embrace. I remembered seeing something in the corner of my eye, and straight after José's mood had done a total 180. He was rude, harsh, annoyed at something and I wasn't sure what it was at the time.

"I had no right to be like that with you," he shook his head. "There was nothing going on between us but it still hurt, you know? Seeing you with him. Seeing you with someone better than me."

"You said some horrible things to me that night," I said. Not to make him feel bad, but to finally clear the air once and for all. "It hurt me. I was really angry with you."

"I know," he muttered, shyly. "I was acting like a dick. I know there's no excuse, but I wasn't coping… I was lashing out at everyone because I couldn't handle the fact the problem was with me."

He stilled, twiddling his thumbs in his lap.

"I regretted it as soon as you left the exhibit," he revealed. "I was going to follow you and apologise, but I saw you with Ray and didn't want to ruin the rest of your night."

"Is that why you came here, the next day, looking for me?" I wondered.

He nodded.

"I needed to say sorry," he said. "I didn't want to lose you, on top of everything else. So I went to your apartment and waited for you, but you didn't come home. One of your neighbours told me you'd be at work until the early hours, but she wouldn't say where you worked."

"How did you eventually figure it out?"

"I was walking through the city looking for somewhere to drink and spotted your car," he explained. "I put two and two together and decided to wait for you to come out. Didn't matter how long it took, I needed to see you. I think I was out there for about 2 hours."

I shivered as I recalled that night, remembering how terrified I was by the shadowy figure lingering on the other side of the alley. All I could work out is that it was a man staring at me. When he silently began making his way toward me, I ran as fast as I could. I didn't know who he was. I didn't know what was going to happen if he caught up with me. But in typical clumsy Ana fashion, I stumbled at the bottom of the steps that led up to the club, whacking my head on the railings as I fell to the floor.

I panicked as the man closed in on me, coming to a halt just a few feet away. He bolted across the parking lot as Cal burst from the club, coming to my rescue.

"You scared the hell out of me," I confessed to him. He looked away. "You were just standing there. You didn't say anything. I didn't know it was you. You could have been anyone."

"I know. I'm sorry."

"Why didn't you speak? Tell me it was you?"

"I froze," he shrugged. "It happened so fast. I saw you and it took me a minute to realise it was actually you. You looked so different. And then I started walking to you and you ran. You were screaming and I tried to speak, but I couldn't. _I just couldn't_."

"But when I fell over? You could have revealed yourself then."

"I saw the fear in your eyes," he shook his head. "So I ran. I didn't want to scare you anymore than I already had."

"That doesn't explain why you didn't contact me afterwards," I said. "You could have called me and explained."

"I tried," he protested, raising his eyes to mine again. He was telling the truth. "But you blocked my number. And I sure as hell wasn't going to call Ray and tell him what had happened. He'd string me up!"

I sank into the couch.

"I know it makes no difference, but I was scared too," he added on a whisper. "I had already pissed you off and thought I'd completely fucked up our friendship. And then I go and terrify you, causing you to hurt yourself. I was waiting for the cops to throw me in a cell. It's where I belonged."

"I wouldn't have let that happen," I assured him.

"I was drink driving that night," he mumbled, embarrassment flooding his expression. "Considering what went down with you at that club, I assumed that would be it for me. They'd think I was some sort of pervert."

"You didn't know what to do for the best?" I gathered. He nodded. "I could have gotten you help, if I had known you were struggling."

"I didn't know I needed help," he said. "Professional help, I mean. I was in this fog and all I knew is that I wanted out. I got back in my car and drove out of the city, and ended up at some shitty motel. I hid there for a couple days."

He fell silent and I knew what he was thinking.

He hid there until Elena tracked him down. She had locked in on her target and nothing was going to stop her from getting him. He was her scapegoat.

"Are you okay talking about her?" I tentatively asked.

Before he could answer, Christian joined us again, carrying over a tray of drinks and some cookies. He set the tray down on the coffee table and shuffled to me, sitting down at my side.

José glanced across at Christian and gave him a curt nod of acknowledgment.

"Some of it is hard to talk about," he revealed. "The things that happened when I was in her house… I can't talk about that."

"Okay," I nodded. "Can you tell me what happened when she got to the motel?"

"A detective was at the door," he began in a shaky tone. He was uncomfortable, but he didn't shy away from divulging this to me. The bravery emitting from him was strong, yet understated at the same time. "He didn't really say anything. He knocked me out cold… I woke up in a dark room, my hands and feet tied up, in this small cage type thing. I had no clothes on."

The images flooding my brain were hard to process.

Christian's hand settled on my knee. He took over.

"Did you have any idea who she was?" he asked.

"Nope," José shook his head. "She never talked to me. Not really. She talked about me, as if I wasn't there… even when she was doing stuff to me."

"Were you always aware of what was happening to you?"

"Not always," he shook his head again, his eyes firmly on Christian. "She kept injecting that shit into me. I was out of it for long periods of time. And when I came around, it was hell… Jesus, the doctors had to gradually ween me off it and the withdrawal was –"

José sighed, puffing out his cheeks and rolling his eyes.

Christian nodded, seeming to understand the subject more than me. I wondered if he had witnessed his birth mother going crazy when she wasn't on a high…

"Are you doing okay now?"

"A lot better," José confirmed. "In every way. It's taken some time but I'm finally getting there."

"I am truly sorry you were caught up in this," Christian said. "For what it's worth, you were just in the wrong place at the wrong time. She didn't set out to target you. Elena used you as a scapegoat when she found out about the incident between you and Ana at the club. That's all."

"Right," he hummed back. "Thanks for clearing that up. I had been wondering… So she was setting out to hurt you guys?"

I nodded but remained silent.

"Why?"

"I had a complicated relationship with her," Christian explained, shrugging his shoulders. "She was jealous that I was getting close to Ana. She was looking for a way to get Ana out of the picture."

"By killing you?" José shrieked, his eyes shooting my way. I nodded again. "Jesus… and everyone else in the club? She was prepared to let all of us die?"

"She was going to pin the blame on you," Christian added. "The detective who came looking for you at the motel? He was her boyfriend. He tampered with evidence so it looked like you were stalking Ana. It was convincing, for a while."

José stilled, his gaze dragging between me and Christian.

"Did you believe it was me?" he asked. "That I was doing that?"

"I did," Christian nodded. "After the way I had seen you behave toward Ana, I was concerned that you posed a threat to her safety."

"I would never hurt her," José muttered. "I don't have it in me."

"I know that now," Christian replied. His lips lifted into a slight smile, his eyes creasing. "And I apologise for thinking badly of you. You mean a lot to Ana and I respect that."

I glanced up at him and he met my gaze. I was astounded by his words, but more so that he was genuine with them. His possessiveness was taking a back seat, his trust in me outshining it.

I mouthed a thank you to him.

"Did you believe it was me?" José asked, drawing my attention back over to him. "Did you think I was stalking you?"

I slowly shook my head.

"I couldn't believe it," I said. "Even though the evidence looked real, I just couldn't believe you had sunk that far. It wasn't you. I _know_ you."

He gave me a soft smile, his eyes starting to water.

"I appreciate that," he muttered. "It was killing me, thinking you hated me. Before and now."

"I don't hate you," I assured him. "I want you to get better. I want you to be happy again."

He nodded.

"I'll get there," he said. "I'm gonna stick with therapy for as long as it takes. It's definitely helping… and I'm having surgery in a couple weeks."

"You are?"

"For my scars," he explained, gesturing to his legs. "I need another skin graft on both legs. The scars are pretty bad and the previous graft didn't go to plan. I think I'll need a few surgeries to get it right."

My stomach tensed. "Are you in pain?"

"Every day," he nodded, sadly. He shrugged. "The skin is sore but kinda numb. It's weird. The tightness of the skin hurts the most. It's a constant irritation that I can't switch off. Walking is tough. Laying down is worse, though."

"Are you on any meds?"

"I try to limit how much I take," he revealed. "I'm worried about what kind of effect it'll have on me. You know, because of the drugs she fucked me up on."

"Are the doctors good at the new facility?" I checked.

"Really good," he smiled. "It's great there. I like being closer to Dad. I'm allowed home sometimes, which is nice. Being stuck there drives me crazy, makes me do stupid things…"

My attention dropped to his torso, Ray's revelation about José harming himself blasting to the forefront of my mind.

José raised his left hand and gently placed it in the centre of his chest.

"You know, don't you?" he whispered. I lifted my eyes to his. "About me cutting myself?"

I nodded.

He blew out a hard sigh and shook his head. His cheeks reddened.

"It's not what you think," he grumbled. "Everyone thinks it was because I wanted to hurt myself, but it wasn't… I just wanted it gone."

"What do you mean?"

"The tattoo," he said.

"My name?"

"I remembered her dragging me out of the cage and onto a couch," he nodded. He shuddered at the memory. "I couldn't handle having a permanent reminder there. Looking at it… it made me remember what happened in that fucking room."

"You tried to cut it out?"

"I wanted it gone. It wasn't your name that was the problem. She could have tattooed a triangle onto me and I'd hate it."

"I understand," I whispered.

"It's gone now," he explained. "Well, hidden."

He slowly picked up the hem of his t-shirt and raised it all the way up to his throat. My gaze lingered on the harsh lines of his ribcage, but was quickly stolen by the brightly coloured image covering the entirety of his left pectoral.

It was a phoenix spreading its wings wide, hues of amber, crimson and saffron detailing its impressive feathers. The bird was mid-flight, surrounded by a sea of blue and purple spirals.

I leaned forward and studied the design. There was no sign of my name, nor the scars from where he tried to extract the marked skin from his body.

"I never thought I'd get a tattoo," he explained, admiring the artwork for himself. "It didn't appeal to me, but I had to cover up what she did. It was Dad who suggested I cover it with something else. Something I had chosen for myself."

"Taking back control?" Christian observed.

"Yeah," José nodded. "I had it done a few weeks ago. It's healing well."

"It's nice," Christian hummed. I knew he hated tattoos but even he had to acknowledge the talent that had gone into it. "It's very impressive."

"I figured it was apt," he snorted. "A phoenix. Rising from the ashes. Reborn out of fire and all that crap."

"I like it," I smiled.

He returned my grin and I felt the tension in the room drop, replaced by a more relaxed feeling that I welcomed.

We sat and mused over our drinks, briefly discussing my job and his plans for the future.

"One of the reasons I wanted to come here was to thank you," José said, shifting his focus to Christian. "For helping with my medical bills. You didn't have to do that."

"I wanted to," Christian shrugged. "You didn't deserve what happened to you."

"But you didn't have to keep paying for my treatment," he protested. "After I left the centre here, I figured you'd stop helping us. Rach told you to stick it."

I frowned and turned my chin to Christian. His expression was blank.

"You're still paying for his treatment?" I asked.

"Oh yeah," José added. "The doctor at the new place I'm at tried to make out it was free, that I had qualified for some kind of funding, but I knew it was bullshit. I knew it was you."

"Why didn't you tell me?" I pressed on, staring at Christian with furrowed brows.

"I was trying to keep it quiet," he shrugged. "I didn't want his family to find out and for it to affect his treatment. He deserved the best, which was here. When he was taken back to Portland, I arranged for a new team to take over. Flynn helped me sort it out."

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. I had no idea.

My heart swelled with my love for him. My beautiful, kind, compassionate man. He melts my heart every single day.

"Thank you," José said. "I can't tell you how much it's helping me. I feel like I'm getting back to how I used to be."

"You're welcome," Christian smiled. "I know how cruel and debilitating depression can be. I wouldn't wish it on anyone."

They shared a look that didn't mean anything to me, but I knew resonated with both of them on a deep level.

"Do you think we'll be able to stay in contact?" José asked me, his voice dropping to a shy, tentative tone.

"I'd love that," I nodded, eagerly. "I want us to be friends again."

"I want that too," he smiled. "I miss my best bud."

He held out his hand to me and I placed my palm in his. His fingers curled around mine, squeezing them tight.

"I'm gonna need your number," he said, rolling his eyes. "I need to buy a new phone. Rach took it from me."

"Why?" I frowned.

"She said it wasn't healthy," he huffed. "Apparently I shouldn't be looking at pictures of people who aren't as crispy as a piece of bacon."

He snorted a hard laugh, breaking the tension behind his comment.

"I don't think it's a social media detox I need," he mumbled. "It's a Rachel detox I actually need. She's crazier than me!"

"She just wants you back to normal," I shrugged.

"You're the last person who should be sticking up for her!"

"You of all people should know what Ana's like," Christian chuckled. "She's the first to jump to someone's defence."

"Even those who don't deserve it," José nodded.

"I'll get you a new phone," Christian told him. "I'll have it delivered to your father's house. First thing in the morning."

"You sure?"

He nodded. "Of course. I wouldn't offer if I had doubts."

"Thanks."

He gingerly shuffled off the edge of the couch and straightened up, careful as he stretched out his limbs. A grimace twisted his mouth and I could tell he was in agony.

"I should hit the road," he announced. "Dad will be wondering where I am. I didn't tell anyone I was coming here."

"How did you get here?" I asked. "You didn't drive, did you?"

"No," he shook his head. "I got a taxi. It cost a bomb, though."

Christian reached into his pocket and removed his cell phone, already typing out a message.

"I'll get someone to drive you home," he declared. José was about to protest, but Christian silenced him with a firm shake of his head. "I insist. I don't want you on public transport or wasting money on taxis. You should be riding in comfort, especially in your condition."

"But you've already done enough for me!"

"You need to focus on getting better," Christian shot back. "Don't worry about the money or anything else. Your priority is to get yourself better, physically and mentally."

"You're a good guy," José muttered. He held out his hand to Christian, which was accepted without hesitation. "I was wrong about you. I was clouded by jealousy."

"I can be an asshole at times," Christian smirked. "So you weren't entirely wrong."

They laughed together, shaking hands.

"Can I talk to you in private, before I leave?" José asked.

"Of course."

José turned back to me and we made our goodbyes. I withheld giving him a hug, not wanting to cause him any pain. I knew his arms and legs had taken the brunt of the fire, but I was also aware he had burns on his back and sides.

"We'll talk again soon," he promised me.

"Soon," I grinned.

I sank back into the couch as he and Christian walked to the elevator. They disappeared inside, the doors sealing around them.

I wasn't sure what José wanted to talk about, but I knew that if it was important Christian would tell me at a later date. I wasn't going to pry. It wasn't my business.

Christian was gone for a short while, the ping of the elevator alerting me to his return. He crossed the length of the apartment and came back to me, draping his arm around my shoulders as he sat down again.

"Thank you," I mumbled as I curled into his side.

"For what?"

"Being nice to him," I said. "I know it was probably difficult for you."

"No, I meant what I said," he shook his head. "I was wrong to see him as a threat. Do I like the idea he's probably still madly in love with you? No. But I know you love me and that's what matters."

He pressed a kiss to my temple.

"I never thought I'd get a chance to talk to him again," I admitted, my voice closing up.

"I know you didn't, baby."

"Did you know he was coming over?"

"No. Taylor came through to me and said José was in the lobby. The front desk called up and asked what they should do."

I paused for a second.

"Did you think about saying no? Refusing to let him in?"

"No," he replied, no hesitation. "Didn't even cross my mind."

I smiled and buried my face into his chest. My eyes stung with unshed tears.

"Do you feel better now you've spoken to him?" he asked.

"A weight has been lifted," I whispered. "I don't feel that ball in my chest… It's gone."

It wasn't the knowledge that José didn't blame me for what happened that gave me comfort. I couldn't quite put my finger on it, but it was freeing. Seeing him. Talking to him. Having a small piece of my old life back.

I came to realise that letting go and moving on doesn't mean giving up your past. It means you're freeing yourself of blame, hatred and guilt. It is those feelings that tie us down and hold us back.

But not anymore.


	42. Chapter Forty One

**Hello Lovelies,**

 **I hope you're all well and having a good week so far! I'm going to be fairly busy over the Christmas period but I'll try to upload when I can. Work is hectic at the moment but I'm having fun getting back into the swing of writing and editing again. :)**

 **I hope you enjoy this chapter. More coming as soon as possible!**

 **Much Love,**

 **Chelsea x**

* * *

 **Paula White –** Thank you! I'm glad you liked it. I hope you like this chapter too. Much Love x

 **Gracie –** Thank you! It was a great chapter to write. As was this one! I hope you like it. Much Love x

 **Reds77 –** Thank you! I'm proud of all of them! They've each come such a long way. I think this really is the start of them moving forward and on with their lives. Greater things are on the horizon! Much Love x

 **Cypher7 –** Thank you! That's wonderful to hear. I'm glad you're looking forward to the next story. Much Love x

 **DoloresDeeHowe –** Thank you! I hope you enjoy this chapter. Much Love x

 **SuzB –** Thank you! The healing has commenced. I think this is the start of much happier times for all of them. I hope you like this chapter. Much Love x

* * *

It was a weekend of two halves, following my reunion with José on Friday evening.

Christian and I spent Saturday at Bellevue, lounging around with the entire Grey clan. Whilst I was a little drained from the previous night's conversation and revelations, I was more than happy to eat, drink and be merry with the Greys. I needed it. We both did.

Surprisingly, the mood was light and relaxed, despite Grace and Carrick frequently checking up on Christian to make sure he was doing okay. Their parental concern and guilt was never far away, even though he was honest in his replies. He was doing better. Things were starting to settle down again. In time, they wouldn't feel such an intense need to wrap him up in cotton wool. He wasn't a victim anymore – he's a survivor.

After a busy Saturday socialising, we opted to spend Sunday at home. Just the two of us. No airs, no graces, just quiet tranquillity. Besides, it was time to put plans into motion and knuckle down on our expectations for the apartment renovation. We had put it off for long enough and we had already lost one designer.

 _Although, good riddance to trash._

Going from room to room, we mapped out what we hoped to change, making notes as we went along. It was mostly cosmetic, colour schemes and furnishings taking the brunt of our upheaval. We compromised on little things, no real disagreements putting a barrier between us. As ever, we were in tune with each other, our tastes blending in perfect harmony. Our tastes compliment each other.

We finished upstairs, working our way through the apartment bottom up. The last room we entered was the soon-to-be guest bedroom.

The former sub bedroom was empty, the bed and dressers already gone, leaving just the beige drapes and a white rug. It was bare but still carried the memories of the women who had stayed in it. I took a deep breath and let it slide off my shoulders. Once the room was decorated, there would be nothing left of his former life. No hint of any other woman ever being in here. The thought was comforting. It was a much needed fresh start for us.

"I think the bed should go over there," I said, pointing to the wall adjacent to the windows. "The sun won't blind whoever is staying over that way, and they'd still get to check out the views. It seems a shame to deny anyone the chance to see the day break over the city. I love watching it."

Christian didn't say anything in return, prompting me to spin around to check he was still listening.

He was grinning at me.

"What?"

"Nothing," he smirked, shaking his head. "I agree. It makes perfect sense to put the bed there."

"Right…" I hummed, suspicious of his demeanour. "We'll need a new dresser and maybe a loveseat. Or a desk. What do you think?"

"We could do both," he offered. He pointed to the windows. "The desk could go in front, if we move the bed closer to the door to make room. And the sofa could go against this back wall. We could turn this area into a snug, have that whole corner as somewhere to sit and relax."

"You've been watching too many home reno programmes," I rolled my eyes. "I've created a monster."

He snorted a laugh.

"What about colour scheme? What do you think will work in here?"

"I don't want anything similar to our room," I shook my head. "Which rules out greys, blues and purples."

"What about cream?"

"Too boring," I dismissed, scrunching up my nose. "It'd feel like a hotel room. Not nearly cosy enough."

"Okay," he sighed. "Um… What if we offset cream with a contrast colour?"

"That could work," I agreed. "What about yellow?"

"You know I hate yellow," he grimaced.

"You hate the colour of Mia's car," I corrected him. "I'm not talking about Big Bird here, more of a lemon."

He shook his head.

"Brown?" he suggested. "Chocolate? Deep shades?"

"I want light and airy," I muttered.

"Green?"

I paused. "What kind of green?"

"Light. Nothing dark," he smirked, picking up on my previous comment. I rolled my eyes again. "How about mint green?"

I scanned the empty space and tried to imagine it, the idea growing on me.

"We could add in some gold touches too," I mumbled, more to myself than him. "Picture frames, a new rug, little trinkets to dot around?"

"Sounds great," he hummed, scribbling the notes in the pad he had been carrying around with him. He flicked through the pages. "We've got a lot to work from. We just need to find another interior designer to help bring it all together."

"In that case, we're done," I smiled.

"Thank fuck," he said, blowing out a long breath. He closed the notepad and slipped it into his back pocket. "Can we get naked now?"

"Is that all you've been thinking about?"

"Surely that's a rhetorical question," he fired back, arching his brow. "That's _all_ I think about, period. Every minute of every day."

He grabbed my hand and pulled me out of the bedroom, taking me back into the hall. We had just rounded the corner, heading for the stairs, when my eyes were drawn to the closed door to my left.

My feet dug into the carpet, bringing the both of us to an abrupt stop.

"What is it?" he asked, snapping his head to me.

I remained staring at the door.

"Just leave it," he shook his head. He tugged me forward. "Come on, let's go downstairs."

"Christian –"

I dragged my gaze to him and observed the concerned look that had engulfed his features.

"We haven't decided what we're going to do with that room," I reminded him. "We need to –"

"We don't," he interrupted. He attempted to move me again but I slipped my hand out from his. "Ana, please, ignore it."

"We can't leave the door locked forever, you know," I said. "That's avoidance."

He pursed his lips.

"It's just a room," I told him. I edged closer to the playroom door and rested my hand against the cold mahogany. "It's like any other room in the apartment."

"It's not though, is it?" he huffed. "That room –"

"Is ours," I interjected. "It's half mine and I want to go in there."

"You know what used to happen in there," he mumbled, sheepishly. "The subs. How I met them. The link to Elena…"

"And?" I shook my head. "I know what you did in there. I know who you used to take in there and why. I accept it, I get it, and it doesn't change anything for me."

"But –"

"We haven't even been in there," I said. "Well, we've never done anything in there before."

"For good reason, too!"

"What do you mean by that?"

"You're not my sub," he grumbled. "You never were and never will be."

"I know," I nodded. I paused for a moment and lowered my voice. "Does it make you think of Elena? Is that why…?"

"I've disconnected her from that," he shook his head. "She introduced me to it, but she's not the reason I enjoyed aspects of that lifestyle. I know I can still enjoy that without being reminded of her."

I smiled to myself. I knew he had been working on this with Flynn lately.

"You think you can still do that stuff? It wouldn't bother you, doing it?" I asked. He slowly nodded. "So what's stopping us from going in there? Is just the subs?"

"It's not fair to ask you to go in there with me and do the things I expected of them," he whispered. "I won't put you in that kind of position."

"Is that an innuendo?" I joked, lightening the sombre mood that had developed between us. I held out my hands to him, waiting until he slid his palms over mine. "Christian, it's okay. It doesn't upset me, thinking of them."

"It can't be easy, though."

"No, you're right, it isn't," I sighed. "But you can't change anything. Am I looking forward to getting rid of anything they may have come in contact with? Yes, of course I am. I don't want to be reminded of the fact you've had sex with other women. I think most people would feel the same."

"I'm not sure I could cope if you hadn't been a virgin when we got together."

"You would have," I shook my head.

"How can you be sure of that?" he frowned. "I'd probably want to kill any man who had his hands on you. I can't even stomach the idea of you kissing anyone else, for fuck's sake!"

"You'd get through it the same way I do," I said. "I'm constantly reassured of the fact you love me. What we have is raw and intimate and passionate. This is more than just some fling or a business arrangement. That gets me through it. That's how I can accept your past."

"Really?"

"What we have is special," I nodded. "It's unique to us. We're traditional in some ways and a little kinky in others."

He dithered as he pondered his next question.

"You're still interested in the kinkier side?"

"I liked it," I told him, nodding proudly. I felt no shame in admitting it. "The stuff we tried… the spanking… you taking control… I enjoyed it. I was into it as much as you were."

"What about now?" he asked, hinting to the leather-clad elephant in the hallway. "Do you think you can handle it, after everything you've been through?"

I didn't hesitate.

I eased up onto my toes and kissed him, hard and fast, coaxing him to relax.

As I felt his shoulders drop, he reached above my head and pulled a key down from the top of the door frame. Taking the gold key in his hand, he pushed it into the lock and opened up the playroom door.

He stepped inside first, knocking on the lights. A part of me expected the room to look different somehow, but it was eerily familiar. Some of the equipment and toys had been removed, everything I had previously vetoed now gone from sight.

"I'd like to try it again," he confessed, his voice so low I almost didn't catch what he said. He turned to look at me, his head bowed to the floor. "I still want this… Well, I still want our version of this."

"Do you need it or want it?" I checked.

"Want," he clarified. "With you. Only you."

I smiled back at him.

"I'm kind of scared, though," he revealed.

"Me too," I nodded. "It's been a long time. A lot has happened."

"I'm scared it'll trigger you," he admitted. His concern stretched wider across his face. "If I tie you up, I'm scared it'll bring back memories of what happened in Maîtrise. I don't want you to feel like that again. The fear, the upset, the panic. It kills me seeing you fall apart."

I couldn't ignore the niggle in my stomach that shared the same worries.

"This is different," I said. "It will be different for us."

"How?"

"Because with you, I know I'm safe," I shook my head. "I know you're not going to hurt me."

"But if you start freaking out –"

"Then we'll stop and take a breather," I shrugged. "I have ways of rationalising my thoughts now. Rhian's helped me get a grip on my fears."

"I don't want you to have a set back, that's all."

I crossed over to him and slid my hands around his waist.

"If you can do this, so can I," I said.

"But –"

"I'm ready," I assured him. "I want to get back to how we were. Our mix of kink and vanilla."

He snorted under his breath.

"And I want to make this room ours," I added. "I think we need to redecorate in here too. It should represent us. I'm not a fan of the red."

He glanced around and nodded.

"I never liked the red either," he sighed. "I just went along with the plans. The designer used red in his mock ups and it stuck."

" _He_?" I frowned. "It wasn't Gia who –"

"God no," he shook his head. "She didn't know anything about this room. No, I had someone I knew from the community design this for me. I've known him for years."

"A fellow dom?"

"We met in a club," he explained, nodding. "I can ask him to redesign in here, if you want? We can talk him through some ideas to make it less… like a dungeon."

"It is kinda like a torture chamber," I smirked. "I'd like something more sensual. Warmer. More erotic."

"Sounds good to me," he purred and leaned down, pecking his lips to mine. My skin prickled all over, my senses heightening. "And when it's been redecorated, we can come in here and christen it properly."

I stilled.

"I want to christen it now," I whispered. "I want to play."

He studied my face, remaining silent for the longest time. I wondered if he was thinking of ways to worm out of doing this.

He sucked in a sharp breath and raised his hand to my face. He ran the pad of his thumb across my lower lip.

"Are you sure you're ready?"

I nodded.

"Lift your arms," he ordered, his voice taking on a deeper, sterner tone. It made my thighs press together, my knees buckling.

I did as he said, holding my hands up over my head. He took the hem of my t-shirt between his fingers and peeled it off my body, throwing it on the floor at my feet.

He moved his attention to my bra, cupping my breasts through the thin lace, my nipples hardening at his touch. He smoothed his hands along the band and unhooked it. I lowered my arms and allowed the dainty fabric to drop to the ground.

"I'll never tire of seeing you like this," he mumbled.

Carefully, he teased my sweats and panties down my legs, stripping me bare. He squatted in front of me and tapped my feet, silently gesturing for me to step out of the remainder of my clothes.

As he rose to his feet, he pressed light kisses from my pubic bone to my throat.

"Wait here," he hushed. "I'll be back in a minute."

I stared after him, watching as he sauntered from the room and closed the door behind him. I stood motionless, unsure of what to do.

 _Do I remain exactly where I am?_

 _Am I allowed to move?_

 _Where has he gone?_

It was alien to me. When we had previously played, it hadn't been a formal affair. There weren't any rules. But in here, I didn't know if the same would apply.

Against better judgement, I sat down at the foot of the bed. I looked around me, seeing the bare walls where various canes and whips used to reside. We had gone through everything in here, traffic lighting the items I was open to trying and those I was adamant would never come near me. Only those that had been given a green or yellow sticker remained.

The door creaked open again and Christian returned. I rolled my head to the door and gasped at the sight of him bare-chested, wearing only a pair of silk pyjama pants. The midnight blue material shimmered as he strode towards me, the close-fit revealing the contours of his growing erection.

He came to a standstill in front of me.

"Am I allowed to sit down?" I tentatively asked. "Or do I have to wait for you to tell me?"

"No, you can sit," he smiled. He cupped my jaw between his hands. "You don't need to be at my beck and call."

I couldn't help but recall the finer details in the contract he had given me after we met.

We had tried to find a compromise, plotting a way to incorporate his need for control and play and my desire of a more conventional relationship. We had each devised our own contracts – his listing what he wanted, his rules and expectations. It stated that whilst in the playroom, I must not do anything unless he had first instructed me to do it.

 _No eye contact, either._

He held my head up, as if sensing what I had been thinking.

"Forget about all that," he said. "It's in the past. We make our own path, find our way of doing things. Find what works for us. Right?"

I nodded.

"How is this going to work then?" I checked. "Are you in control?"

"Yes," he replied. "But you never have to do something you don't want to. Don't feel like you have to do it just because I've told you to."

"I still have a say," I nodded, getting what he meant. "I still have control over my body."

"Always," he smiled.

"But you will expect me to be subservient?" I asked, choosing my words carefully.

"To a degree."

"Will you expect me to kneel at your feet?"

"Only if you plan on taking me in your mouth," he smirked, stroking his thumb back and forth over my lip. "We're still us, even when we're in play. I'm still your boyfriend. I'm still your Christian."

"Can I call you sir?" I whispered, straightening my back as a ripple of spasms spread through my core. I was primed and ready for him.

"If you want," he shrugged. "Whatever turns you on, baby."

My eyes dropped to his groin. I longed to rub my palms along the hard line of his penis, to feel him through the cool, smooth fabric.

"I haven't seen these before," I said.

"They're my playroom pants."

"You're what?"

"I used to wear a pair of jeans in here," he explained. "It was kind of like a uniform. It'd get me into character. They were some old, ripped Levi's."

"So how come you're not wearing them now?"

"I threw them in the trash," he said. "I got rid of them the night we first slept together. I saw them in my closet when I went to pick out some clothes for you to wear and I cringed at the thought of wearing them when I'm with you. I bought these instead."

"I think I prefer silk to denim," I muttered. "It's more revealing."

"I've had these since we started dating," he breathed. "They're finally getting their first outing."

I cautiously placed my hands on his hips, my fingers lightly pressing into the flesh above his waistband.

"It's been a long time coming."

"Speaking of coming…" he purred.

His hands moved to my shoulders and he slowly pushed me back, until I was laying flat on the bed. I shivered as my skin met with the cold sheets.

"Shuffle up to the headboard," he demanded.

I got into position and stared up at the decorative ceiling. His footsteps sounded around me, echoing through the semi-empty room, until his body finally came back into view. I glanced up at him and watched as he dropped a set of thick, figure of eight loops next to me.

"Are you happy for me to tie you up?" he asked.

He climbed over me and sat down on my waist, straddling me. He picked up the loops and dangled them above me.

I nodded.

"I need you to say it."

"Tie me up." I held up my hands to him. "I'm ready."

He took the loops and secured them around my wrists, securing the buckles so I couldn't pull my hands apart. Lifting my arms up, he began fixing the bonds to the headboard.

"Too tight?"

"No," I shook my head. I wriggled my wrists. They were surprisingly comfortable, the inside of the loops lined with padding.

"Try to pull your hands down," he ordered.

"What?"

"Just do it."

I attempted to yank my hands down and, to my surprise, I was able to unhook myself from the headboard, despite my hands still being linked together.

"It's made of Velcro," he explained, gesturing to the material still hanging above my head. "You can break free if you need to. Any time you want to stop, you can."

My heart throbbed with gratitude.

"Thank you," I sighed. He smiled back at me. "I love you."

"I love you too…"

He lowered himself and kissed me full on the lips, his hands working to reattach my wrists to the headboard. His kiss was deep and long, his tongue stroking mine into our precious dance.

Slowly, he began to spread his kisses along my jaw and throat, moving south. He licked the space in the middle of my chest, then used the tip of his tongue to trace the lower swell of each of my breasts. My back arched, my movement pushing my nipple into his eager mouth.

"We'll need a new safeword," he breathed.

"We have safewords…"

"They're not suitable anymore," he grunted.

I paused and glanced up at the ceiling again.

 _Red._

"You need to think of a new one," he added. "It has to be your choice."

He slid further down my torso, honing in on my belly button. It was hard to think with him teasing me like this.

"We can't go any further until you decide on one."

"Um…" I writhed, pushing my heels into the sheets. He blew a cool breath over my hips and I bucked under him. "Fuck, Christian…"

"Fuck won't work, you say it too often," he chuckled. "Think again, baby."

He sucked hard on the flesh above my mound, pumping my skin in and out of his mouth.

"Oh god," I groaned.

"Hurry up," he urged. "I'm desperate to bury my face in your delicious, beautiful little -"

"Fuck," I thrashed, gulping hard. "I… f…"

"Come on, baby. Whatever you want. The first thing that pops in your head."

" _Flamingo_!"

He raised his head and stared up at me, his brows pinching together.

"Flamingo?" he repeated. "Where the fuck did that come from?"

I burst into a fit of giggles, my stomach springing with laughter.

"You said whatever popped into my head," I snorted. "You said it earlier, when I showed you the photo Mia sent me. You said her dress looked like a flamingo had exploded all over it. It made me laugh."

He chuckled along with me, recalling the funny moment we shared over breakfast.

"Give me a second, I'll think of something else," I said.

"No," he smirked. "Stick with flamingo."

"But it's silly."

"It's random," he shook his head. "Which is what you need in a safeword – something you wouldn't normally say. Flamingo will be our safeword."

I settled back into the bed, trying to quell my giggling.

He eased further down, until he was neatly cradled between my thighs. He traced his tongue up and down my seam, swirling the throbbing point I desperately wanted him to suck.

"Ohhh… yes…"

"I love that sound," he growled between his frenzied lapping. "God, I could listen to you moan for ever."

His hands pushed under my buttocks and lifted my hips up, tilting me into his mouth.

"From now on, this room is only about pleasure," he murmured. "I want to see you crumble as I make you come… I want to hear you groan and scream… I want to feel you clenching, pressing your thighs together as I'm pounding into you."

"Christian…"

"There will be no punishments for us," he added.

I opened my eyes and glimpsed down, bowing my head to see him.

"You mean that?" I panted. "You can give up that side of things?"

"I'm far more interested in pleasure than pain," he nodded. A wry glint swam through his gaze. "But that's not to say I won't tread the line. There's a lot to be said for pushing boundaries, baby."

"Tell me about it," I exhaled. I held his gaze and shook my head at him. "You've changed so much."

He grinned.

"I know," he said. "I feel different. I feel happy… and content… I finally feel like everything is right in the world."

My body turned to liquid, his words completely dishevelling me.

"I always knew something was missing, I just didn't realise it was a person," he whispered. "I didn't know it was you. I didn't know you were the one who could fix me."

"You fixed me too," I whimpered, my eyes starting to sting. "Oh god… how can you be so sweet and say such romantic things when you're literally laying between my legs, with your face in my hoo-hah!?"

"Because your _hoo-hah_ brings out the romantic in me," he chuckled. "Now, if you don't mind, I'll get back to showing your _hoo-hah_ just how much I love it."


	43. Chapter Forty Two

**Hello Lovelies,**

 **Wishing you all a very happy new year's celebrations! I hope 2020 brings us all happiness, good health and plenty of love and kindness. It's been a difficult year for many of us, so fingers crossed better things are on the horizon.**

 **I hope you enjoy this chapter. Since I started writing this story, I have been counting down to this chapter. It was a joy to write.**

 **More coming soon!**

 **Much Love,**

 **Chelsea x**

* * *

 **Reds77** – Thank you! I really love the place Ana and Christian are in now. They've reached a great milestone in their lives together, maybe there's a way to commemorate this somehow? I hope you like this chapter! Much Love x

 **SuzB** – Thank you! I'm glad you liked it. Wishing you all the best for the new year! Much Love x

 **Iamdbomangmail** – Thank you! I'm glad you're looking forward to the next part of the story. It's shaping up to be a good one! Much Love x

* * *

The working week was long and exhausting, packed with meetings and presentations, the end of July marking an incredibly busy period for SIP. Preparations for Christmas releases were already in full swing, deadlines starting to come out of my ears – as well as steam! There was so much to keep on top with, I had needed to bring work home with me on several nights.

It was the first Friday in August and I was glad to finally see the start of the new month. I hoped August was going to bring quieter, calmer moments into my life.

Christian picked me up from SIP at 5:30pm, determined to drag me from my desk for a much-needed weekend of peace. I breathed a sigh of relief upon seeing him, knowing I was minutes away from kicking off my shoes and slipping into sweats, ready to veg out for the next 48 hours. TV, junk food, the couch in the television room… they were calling my name -

Sadly, Christian had other ideas.

"It's our date night," he reminded me, shaking his head as he pulled me away from the bedroom. He turned me on the spot, spinning me into his waiting arms. "And don't even start grumbling about it. I know you're tired but this was your idea. We made a promise to each other."

I pouted at him.

He was right, of course. It was my idea.

I had been the one to suggest a weekly date night, something to fit into our routine to ensure we make time for us. Time to be a normal couple, to go out for dinner or see a movie. We had agreed that Fridays would be our night. No phones, no distractions. We shook on it and sealed the deal with a kiss.

Promises mean something to us. I didn't have it in me to break this one.

It was his turn to decide what we should do. Last week I had opted for something casual: a cheesy rom-com followed by takeout. He hated the movie but watched it anyway, his arm wrapped around my shoulders the entire time. He groaned as soon as the movie ended and we left the theatre, spending the better part of thirty minutes berating it. He said he would have preferred to stay at home and continuing working our way through the _Harry Potter_ series. He was quite taken with the goings on at Hogwarts.

"Okay," I sighed, sinking into his chest. "Cosy night in?"

"Nope," he smirked. "We're going out."

"Of course we are," I nodded. Why was I expecting anything different? He loves any chance he can get to parade me on his arm. "Where are we going?"

"It's a surprise," he said. He leaned back and looked down at me, his devilish smile making my stomach twitch in anticipation. "I've got everything planned and ready. All you need to do is get dressed."

I frowned.

"How am I supposed to know what to wear if you're not going to tell me where we're going?"

"Wear whatever you want," he shrugged.

"Come on," I protested. "You need to tell me, or at least give me a clue. I can't turn up in jeans and a t-shirt if we're going somewhere nice, can I?"

"Nice is too subtle a word for where we're going," he mused.

"Christian," I huffed his name.

He stared at me, his lips pressed firmly together as his gaze narrowed. He was pondering his next move, assessing how much he can reveal without ruining his surprise.

"All I'll say is you should wear something you feel special in," he replied. "If it makes you feel confident and sexy, that's what you should wear."

"That's it?" I tilted my head. "That's all you're giving me?"

"Take it or leave it, baby," he shrugged again. "If it helps, I'll be wearing a suit."

"You always wear a suit when we go out," I rolled my eyes. "You're hardly ever out of one!"

" _The Armani suit_ ," he clarified, leaning in. His breath was warm on my cheek. "Vest. Black tie. Expertly tailored."

I cracked a broad grin.

That's my favourite suit.

* * *

It took me a little under an hour to get ready, my hair taking the most time to figure out and tame. I used a curling wand to add some waves, then decided against the look and pulled it back into a bun, leaving a few strands to linger around my face. It wasn't spectacular by any means, but it would do.

On the makeup front, I kept things simple: an extra coat of mascara, a whisper of blush over my cheeks, and a dusky rose lipstick. I matched my lips to my heels, the pink adding a splash of colour to my all-white attire. It had taken just a few minutes to choose my dress, it stood out to me as soon as I began rummaging through my side of the closet. I knew it would complement Christian's suit perfectly.

The cocktail dress fell to my knees, the hem uneven, giving off a floaty feel that was emphasised by its satin fabric. The top was close-fitted, darting seams exaggerating my slight curves. The lower half flared at my hips, the material shimmering as I turned this way and that as I checked myself in the mirror. I normally avoided wearing white, thinking it washes me out and clashes with my already pale skin, but there was an almost pearlescent texture to the dress that seemed to highlight my nature tones, rather than contrast with them.

Mia had slipped this new addition into my closet last week, assuring me it would be ideal for any upcoming occasions or events.

 _Date night is an occasion, right? Something to celebrate, even if my feet are screaming for a hot bath and a massage._

Grabbing my clutch, I left the bedroom and teetered over to where Christian was standing.

He was propped against the bar, fiddling with his phone. My knees weakened at the sight of him, that suit looking as gorgeous as ever on his lean body.

"Are you ready?" I asked, clearing my throat and finding my voice beneath the hot flush that had come over me.

He raised his head, his brows shooting up his forehead as he met my eye.

His mouth hung open wide.

"What?" I frowned. I peered down at my body. "Do I look okay?"

He peeled himself from the bar and dropped his phone into his jacket pocket, his eyes never leaving mine. He sauntered over, slow and steady, and circled me like prey.

"You look breath-taking," he exhaled. He caught me by the waist and hoisted me into his chest. His lips quickly sealed over mine. "So fucking beautiful."

My stomach fizzed with excitement.

"I'm not overdressed then?"

"No," he shook his head. "What you're wearing is perfect."

He kissed me once more before pulling away and taking another moment to study me from head to toe. He licked his lips and sighed, the sound oozing with pleasure and arousal.

Linking my arm with his, I let him escort me to the elevators.

"You're really not going to tell me where we're going?" I checked.

"Nope," he chuckled. "You can stop pestering because I'm not going to cave. You'll find out when we get there."

* * *

It was a short and familiar drive to our destination. I grinned the second I realised where we were heading.

The docks were as still as always, the Sound glistening underneath the amber sunset, rows of boats bobbing gently from side to side.

"You're not disappointed, are you?" Christian asked, a worrisome frown tweaking his brows. He squeezed my hand, nervously. "It's not underwhelming?"

"God no!" I laughed, shaking my head. "This is exactly where I want to be. It's just going to be the two of us?"

"Definitely. I'm not sharing you with anyone else tonight."

His shoulders relaxed and we made our way down the long stretch of deck, approaching his anchored yacht at the far end. _The Grace_ waved serenely, inviting us in with the twinkling lights hanging between the sails.

He stepped on first and quickly turned, hands outstretched.

"Permission to come abroad?" I saluted before placing my palms in his.

"Permission granted," he smirked.

I climbed onto the boat and stood in awe of my surroundings. It was stunning. The epitome of romance.

Red petals were scattered all over the deck, leading over to a thick sapphire blanket that was spread out on the floor, to the left of the navigation station. White velvet cushions kept the blanket in place, though there was only a slight breeze in the air.

There were small vases dotted around on various surfaces, each flickering with a cream tealight candle. Whiffs of jasmine and rose enveloped us.

"I thought we could sail out into the middle of the Sound, drop anchor and then have dinner?" he proposed, walking me over to the blanket. "I've got everything on board."

"Sounds great," I smiled.

"And maybe afterwards we can curl up here and look at the stars?"

My cheeks bunched with another grin.

"We did that on our first date," I muttered, more to myself than to him.

"I know," he nodded.

The memory of that night was etched into my mind.

Everything about that night was dreamlike. It was the night we decided to reach a compromise and try our best to make whatever we had between us work. He wanted his contract. I wanted a relationship. And neither of us wanted to give up our own expectations, but we were open minded enough to explore each other's. Little did we know, just five months later, we would be back here, madly in love and committed to one another.

Life was so different back then.

My life was so different before Christian came along.

"That was my first date ever," he said bluntly. "You were my first."

"I'm glad to hear it," I hummed. I hooked my hands in the bottom of his spine as I hugged him. I reached up and kissed him. "I like the fact I was your first."

"My one and only," he whispered.

* * *

Christian wasn't prepared to let me do anything, tonight all on him.

He quickly shifted from captain to chef, hustling into the kitchenette to fix our dinner.

Granted, he hadn't prepared any of it himself - all he had to do was put it in the oven and plate up - but it was a difficult task for him all the same. I stood in the doorway, watching him scurry around, cursing loudly, a deep line creasing his sweaty forehead.

"It'll be ready in about five minutes," he shouted over to me. He dropped a pan on the counter and grumbled. "Maybe ten minutes. I'm not actually sure… For fuck's sake, I'm going to give Mrs Jones a raise. This cooking shit is fucking hard work."

I folded my arms and leaned into the doorway.

"You know, you could always let me help," I said. "Many hands make light work."

"No," he refused. "Absolutely not."

"Why not?"

"Because tonight is about me spoiling you."

"You're always spoiling me."

"And?" He glimpsed over to me, his brow arched. "It's my right, duty and god damned privilege to spoil you. You deserve it."

"So do you," I shot back. "I want to spoil you, too."

"You spoil me simply by loving me. That's more than enough."

I could have dropped to my knees there and then, the muscles in my legs turning to jelly.

He wiped his hands on a towel and ambled over, his hips and shoulders swaying with the ease and fluidity of his movements. He reached into his back pocket and removed his phone.

"There is one thing you can do," he said, his eyes dropping to his phone for a moment. From nowhere, music started playing from the speakers on the wall. "Dance with me?"

"I thought you're busy cooking dinner?"

"It can wait," he shook his head. "Just one song?"

He took me in his hold and led me back onto the deck.

The music was soft at first, so delicate and light it took me a few seconds to figure out what song he had selected. As the realisation hit, shivers trickled over my skin.

Nat King Cole's dulcet tones serenaded the both of us, _When I Fall in Love_ bringing us together into a gentle, soft sway. Not quite a waltz. Just two bodies letting the music pass through them.

"I love this song," Christian whispered in my ear, his hand pressing deep into my back, pulling me closer into his chest. "I hear it and I think of you."

"Same," I mumbled from somewhere behind the lump forming in my throat.

I had chosen this song to play on our first date.

He was busy fixing dinner then too, when he handed me his phone to choose some music to lighten the mood. I had scrolled through the vast collection on his playlist before eventually settling on Nat King Cole. I'd always felt an affinity with his music, his voice touching my soul in ways no other artist ever has.

There was a reason he had chosen this song, this moment, this location for our date.

He wanted me to remember.

Remember where we started and how far we have come.

"I remember," I breathed.

"Remember, what?"

"Everything…"

* * *

After dinner we settled down on the blanket, flat on our backs, gazing up at the inky sky. I rested my head against his chest, curling into his side.

"There isn't a single cloud in the sky. It's so beautiful tonight."

"Not as beautiful as you," he murmured. I felt him press a kiss to my temple. I tilted my head up, just in time to catch a kiss on the lips. "You, my darling, are beautiful inside and out."

"You need your eyes testing," I snorted.

"No, I think you do," he protested. "You don't see what I see. You only see the flaws – or rather, the flaws you seem to think exist. You can't see all of the incredible things I see each and every day. Your kindness, your integrity, your determination… It isn't skin deep for me, Ana. It never has been."

My throat closed, becoming dry.

"I'm so lucky to have met you," he continued. "I don't know what or who brought us together that day, but I am grateful all the same. Never in my wildest dreams did I think I'd ever meet someone who makes me feel the way you do."

"I –"

"I feel alive. For the first time ever, I can actually feel something other than anger and fear."

"Christian…"

"I feel strong because of you. I feel like I can face anything now, regardless of how hard it might be. I don't have to worry about the consequences, don't need to worry about the outcome because one thing is always going to stay the same."

I stared up into his dark eyes, his gaze penetrating deeply into mine.

"You're always going to be there for me. Next to me," he smiled. "I won't lie, I still spend every day worrying that I'm going to lose you somehow, but I'm confident in the knowledge you wouldn't leave me by choice."

"Never," I slowly shook my head.

"I know nothing can tear us apart," he nodded. "We've fought evil and come out the other side happier, stronger, more in-tune than ever. Because we bring out the best in each other."

I silently agreed with him.

"You've brought out the best in me," he grinned. "You have brought light to my darkness. I saw the buoyancy in you the second we met. I saw your goodness, your purity, _my redemption…_ I was attracted to you because I saw hope, but I fell in love with you because of who you are. Because you're my Ana."

He brought his left hand to my cheek and gently stroked the back of his fingers across my burning skin.

"You didn't pretend to be someone you're not," he added. "You didn't put on any airs or graces, you didn't try to impress me. You were just you, right from the very beginning. You were Ana Steele. And that's exactly who you've remained."

He bent down and pecked a kiss to the tip of my nose.

"I know the last few months haven't been easy for us," he noted on a slightly more sombre note. "We've been to hell and back, and I think we'll probably face more challenges in the future. I have no doubt there will be more trouble on the horizon, but I'm not scared. I don't care who or what comes for us. As long as I have you by my side, I know I'll be okay. I know everything will be okay, in the end."

"We're a team," I nodded. "We face shit together."

"Always," he grinned.

Suddenly, he rose to his feet, his spine rigid and his frame tall.

His shoulders lifted with a deep breath and he spun around to stare down at me. With his palms open and facing up to the heavens, I reached up and placed my hands in his and allowed him to lift me to my feet.

I didn't know what was happening but I was happy to go along with it, no questions asked.

"There isn't anyone in the world I'd rather be with," he declared. "No one can make me feel the way you do. With you, I am happy, calmer… _safe_."

I opened my mouth to speak but he silenced me with a quick shake of his head.

"I want to feel this way forever," he said. He rolled his thumbs over mine. "I want to wake up next to you every morning and hold you while you sleep each night. I want to be the person you turn to when you need advice, support, comfort, or just someone to shout at because something has pissed you off… If you're happy, I'll laugh with you. If you're sad, I'll hold you while you cry. If you fall, I'll catch you."

The back of my eyes stung, my lower lip starting to wobble.

"My whole world starts and ends with you," he shrugged. He gulped hard and sucked in another deep breath. "Ana, I'm already the happiest man in the world, but there is one way you can make me even happier."

"Christian –"

He lowered to one knee, crouching in front of me, his head tilted up. He dropped my hands and reached into his pants pocket, and took out a small red box.

"You own me," he said. "I'm yours. Heart, body, soul – all of it belongs to you. But I'd like to make it official."

He cranked open the box and turned it towards me. A breath caught in my throat.

On a bed of black velvet, a platinum ring sparkled. A perfectly square diamond shone proudly in the centre of the band, hugged on either side by two smaller stones. All three diamonds were immaculate and glistening, the centre gem almost double the size of its sisters.

"Anastasia Steele," Christian breathed, his voice shaking. "Will you marry me?"

My gaze was fixed on the ring, my vision blurring as tears streaked down my face, thick and fast.

I nodded my head, a small giggle erupting from my mouth.

"Is that a yes?" he checked.

"It's a yes," I blurted. "Yes! Yes, I'll marry you."

He quickly pulled the ring from the box and slipped it onto my trembling finger.

"I love you," he sighed, blissfully. He jumped to his feet and hauled me into his chest, lifting me off the floor. "I love you so fucking much."

I pressed my lips to his, my salty tears mixing with the water beginning to escape his own eyes.

He held me in position for the longest time, his arms wrapped around my back, mine draped over his shoulders. Our breaths synced, our kisses rolling into one another. Neither of us were ready to break the moment, instead deciding to soak up every inch of the paradise we had found ourselves in. Time seemed to come to a standstill, just for us.


	44. Chapter Forty Three

**Hello Lovelies,**

 **Thank you so much for the incredible messages and reviews I've received in response to the last chapter. I'm so glad you liked it! It was an utter joy to write and edit.**

 **I hope you enjoy this chapter too. More coming soon!**

 **Much Love,**

 **Chelsea x**

* * *

 **SuzB** – Thank you, my lovely! I'm glad you liked it. I hope you like this one too. Much Love x

 **DoloresDeeHowe** – Thank you! I'm really glad you liked it. There is definitely more coming, don't worry! Much Love x

 **Paula White** – Thank you! Happy New Year to you too. I hope you like this chapter. Much Love x

 **Luvdisney2007** – Thank you! I'm so glad you had that kind of reaction. I cried too! I really hope you like this chapter. Much Love x

 **Reds77** – Thank you, hun! Christian sure knows how to dish out the romance, doesn't he? I love him so much. I hope you like this chapter! Much Love x

 **iamdbomangmail** – Thank you! I'm glad you liked it! I hope you like this one too. Much Love x

* * *

I shifted onto my side and curled into Christian's chest, hooking my leg over his and nestling it between his thighs. There was a single cotton sheet draped over us, crinkled from hours of fervent lovemaking. The mattress was like a marshmallow, the perfect balance of suppleness, lightly cradling us while the boat swayed along with the gentle waves.

I had never felt so happy.

 _So alive._

"You know, I never even realised there was a bedroom on here," I chuckled quietly. My hand crept across Christian's moistened torso, my fingertips toying with the dark hairs scattered between his defined pectorals. "If I'd known that on our first date, I would have dragged you in here."

"I wanted to fuck you so bad that night," he snorted. He traced the backs of his fingers up and down the length of my arm. "But I didn't want to spoil it."

"Spoil what?"

"Our first real date," he said. "I wanted it to be real. _Right_."

"And that means no sex?"

"Exactly," he hummed. "No putting out on the first date. Isn't that the general consensus?"

"In that case, it's a good job we'd already slept together well before then," I smirked. "We were sleeping together long before we actually started dating."

"We were," he nodded. He stretched his free arm up high, before tucking his hand under his head. "We did things a little different to other couples. Nothing about our relationship has been conventional."

"I prefer our way of doing things," I muttered.

"Me too, baby. Me too."

He dipped and planted a firm kiss to the middle of my forehead.

I slowly traced the scars speckled across his torso. He didn't mind me touching them. I was probably the only person in the world he would happily allow to touch his scars.

The only person he trusted enough.

My gaze shifted from his scars to my engagement ring, the light catching the diamonds and drawing my focus back to it.

It felt alien to even call it that. An engagement ring.

I'm engaged.

 _Engaged!_

 _How is any of this real? When am I going to wake up from this incredible dream?_

My heart leapt into my throat each time I looked at the ring, my finger starting to become accustomed to its position there. The platinum was still cold and unfamiliar but, in a way, it looked as if that ring should have always sat there, on that finger. It seemed right, somehow.

"If you don't like it, we can pick out another one," he said, out of the blue.

I jerked my head up.

"The ring," he clarified, though I knew perfectly what he was referring to. He had a gift for knowing exactly what I was thinking. "You can pick something else, if you want."

"Are you kidding?" I shook my head. "It's beautiful! I love it."

"Are you sure?" he checked. "I want you to be happy with it and –"

"I am happy," I grinned. I leaned up onto him and brought my mouth to his. "I love it, and I love you. This ring is staying on my finger. It's never coming off. _Never_."

"That's good to hear," he sighed, his lips curling into a light smile. "I'm relieved you like it. I actually helped design it."

"You did? Seriously?"

He nodded, pride swimming through his eyes. He caught my hand in his and admired the ring for himself.

"I spoke to a designer at Cartier and we worked on a couple designs," he explained. "I told him what I was looking for and he showed me some ideas. This is the one I liked the best. As soon as I saw the mock-up, I knew it would suit you."

"I'm surprised you didn't opt for a bigger diamond," I snorted. "I'm glad you didn't, before you get any ideas. It'd be weighing me down, otherwise!"

"Trust me, I was tempted!" he grinned back at me. "I knew you would like something understated. You don't like extravagance, so I compromised by adding the other diamonds. It's still flashy but elegant… at least that's what I was aiming for."

"It's perfect. When did you get it?"

"The same time I picked up your necklace," he said, gesturing to the heart pendant around my neck. "I got them at the same time."

"You got it in New York?" I frowned. "You've had it since then?"

He smirked.

"You've been thinking about this for a little while, then?" I checked. "It wasn't some kind of spur of the moment thing?"

"God, no," he chuckled, shaking his head. "I've been planning this for months."

"Months!?"

My stomach flipped.

I had no idea he was planning this.

I knew deep down I shouldn't be surprised, but I didn't expect this now. Not today. Not this week. Maybe not even this year. I didn't see any signs. I always thought I would know when this moment is coming, but tonight he caught me off guard. I was well and truly stumped.

A part of me knew this day would come eventually - our connection has always been intense and raw, so it was inevitable really – but I hadn't given myself room to think about marriage and settling down. I didn't want to get ahead of myself. For so long, I didn't know if I would meet someone who could ignite that spark in me, like Christian did the moment we met. And then when it happened, I was wary of letting my thoughts spiral out of control.

I was scared to think about having more with Christian. Because I was half-expecting something to intervene and prevent us from reaching our happy ever after.

After all, a few people have tried to break us along the way…

"You had no inclination I was going to propose?"

"None," I shook my head. "I had absolutely no idea."

He blew a long sigh of relief. "I was freaking out," he admitted. "I was so sure I'd give it away. Or worse, that someone else would let it slip!"

"Someone else?"

He nodded.

"You told people you were planning this?"

"My entire family knows," he said, smirking again. "I warned all of them. I had to force Mia to keep it a secret… and don't even get me started on Grace! She'll be tearing her hair out, wondering if I've asked you yet."

"I bet they've already got big ideas for the wedding," I giggled. "I think we've got ready made wedding planners in them!"

"Don't forget Gran," he rolled his eyes. "She's been plotting away with Grace and Mia since I told her and Grandpa."

"You told your grandparents too?"

"I told them at my birthday dinner. I'd already spoken to Dad, but I hadn't got the chance to tell Mom, Mia and Elliot yet. I told them directly after. I think it was when Grandpa was talking to you. He was keeping you occupied."

I hesitated a moment, a lightbulb going off in my mind.

"Wait – that's why they decided to stick around after your birthday, isn't it?" I asked. He nodded once. "They wanted to wait for the announcement?"

"I promised them it would be soon," he added. "Taylor and Mrs Jones know too. So does Flynn and Rhian."

"And Kate?"

"She knows," he smiled. "I showed her the ring when I picked it up and she cried. Then she hugged me and almost deafened me by screaming down my ear… I think it's safe to assume we're friends now."

I laughed at the thought of them becoming best buds. An unlikely duo. I never thought I'd see the day.

"Oh, and Ray knows. He was the first person to find out," Christian revealed. My brows shot up in surprise. "Come on, you didn't think I'd leave him out, did you? I had to ask for his blessing first."

"What?"

"I told him I was going to propose and I wanted his blessing," he explained. "I wanted him to be okay with it, knowing how much his opinion means to you."

"What did he say?"

"He made me promise to keep you safe and always put you first," he revealed. "And then he said he'd never seen you so happy, in spite of what you'd been through. He patted me on the back and said he'd be proud to have a son like me."

I rolled my lips inward, trying to ward off the trembling in my chin.

"I asked Ray the last time we went to Portland," he said. "You went upstairs and I took the opportunity to ask him. It was a now or never moment."

"Were you nervous?"

"I was fucking shitting myself!" he snorted. "I've never felt so nervous in my life."

"I bet Ray was loving it," I laughed. "Did he make you wait for an answer and stare you down?"

"It felt like forever!" he nodded. "I genuinely thought he was going to say no."

"Ray loves you," I shook my head. "He's loved you ever since I introduced you to him. He was as smitten with you as I was."

"What can I say, I'm a hit with the ladies and gentleman," he winked at me.

He shuffled to face me head on and then carefully rolled on top me, settling between my parted thighs. His body was warm and soft, nestling into the grooves of mine perfectly.

He buried his head into the crook of my neck, dropping his entire weight onto me.

"I wish we could stay here forever," I sighed. I tucked my legs around the back of his, pinning him to me. "I don't want this night to end."

"Well, I'm in no rush to leave," he whispered. He sucked hard at the base of my ear, the act drawing a deep groan from my chest. "I can't believe I get you for the rest of my life… I'm one lucky bastard."

He pressed kisses across my chest, following the hollows of my collarbones, his lips lightly dancing over my flushed, tingling skin. As he raised his head to seek out my mouth, his hand slid down my body until it came between his pelvis and mine.

His fingers tracked the length of my seam, spreading the slickness he had left before.

I tilted my hips up as he pushed two fingers into me. He curled them towards the ceiling and stroked that sweet spot he knew so well. The pleasure was instant.

"There," I moaned, squeezing my eyes shut as my toes began to curl. "Yes… Just there."

"You like that, baby?"

"Yes…"

"Do you want me deeper?"

"Yes… just keep going… don't stop. Please, don't stop."

"Never," he hummed.

He lowered his voice to a deep gruff, his lips resting against mine. We couldn't be closer, literally or emotionally.

"I'll never stop loving you, baby."

His promise was my undoing.


	45. Chapter Forty Four

**Hello Lovelies,**

 **Well, this is it. The final chapter! We made it. :)**

 **I really hope you enjoy this chapter. Thank you for the constant support and messages. It means the world to me. I am very lucky to have such amazing readers.**

 **Much Love to you all and here's to the next installment,**

 **Chelsea xx**

* * *

I swung my legs out of the SUV and rose to my feet, smoothing down my pencil skirt as I gazed up at the Grey family home. A cheek-bunching grin curled my lips.

The Grey family.

 _Soon to be my family, too._

I wanted to pinch myself over and over, just to check I wasn't dreaming. It all felt too good to be true.

How had my life led me to this moment – standing in front of a house full of the kindest, most welcoming people I have ever met, ready to celebrate my engagement to the most perfect man in the world?

Stuff like this doesn't happen to people like me.

"You okay?" Christian asked as he sidled up beside me, his hand coming to rest on my hip.

I tilted my chin up to him and nodded, grinning.

"Still feeling like I'm floating on cloud nine," I sighed. "I feel dreamy."

"Me too," he smirked. He winked and lowered his voice. "But I'm blaming it on lack of sleep."

A shiver washed over my skin, flashbacks of last night and this morning coming back into focus.

We spent the entire night on The Grace, dozing in and out of consciousness between frantic, ardent love-making. I think we finally crashed around 4am, waking up at ten to our phones blowing up with missed calls and messages. Everyone was eager to know if I had said yes. As if there was any doubt.

"It's a good thing we've got the rest of our lives to sleep then, huh?" I teased. I spun to face him and looped my hands around the back of his neck, pulling his head to me for a kiss. "You look relaxed."

"That's because I am."

"Weird," I hummed. "You normally hate parties."

He shrugged.

"I have something worth celebrating," he said. "And they promised me it's a small get-together. Just a handful of people. Nothing over the top."

I was relieved to hear that too. Whilst a part of me wanted to stand on a roof and announce the news to anyone willing to hear it, there was a bigger part that wanted to keep this private for a little while longer. I want the chance to live in the moment and be wholly invested in everything, even down to the smallest details. One thing therapy has taught me is that sometimes you need to stop and breathe. Simply take a second to appreciate what is happening now and let everything else wash away.

This was definitely one of those moments.

"We don't need to worry about anyone leaking our news to the media," Christian promised. "We'll make an announcement eventually, but I want some time before we get hounded by the press again."

"Have they ever stopped hounding us?" I arched my brow.

I don't think our faces have been out of the headlines since Kate's article about Christian was published. We've been photographed going to and from work, out shopping, in the most mundane of places. But I have successfully managed to block them out. I ignore them. I choose to get on with my life and let them do their thing, as long as they maintain a safe distance.

Christian pecked a kiss between my brows before breaking our hold. Taylor approached him from the side and held out a glittery fuchsia coloured giftbag to him.

"Thanks," Christian nodded, accepting the bag.

I frowned as I stared at his hands.

"For once, it's not for you," he chuckled.

He opened the bag and reached inside, slowly pulling out a stuffed toy. It was a black and white cat, a pink collar hanging around its neck.

"It's for Harriet," he explained. "She asked me to buy her a cat, but she was happy enough to compromise for one of the stuffed variety."

"It's so cute," I grinned, ruffling the fur on its head. "She's going to love you for this."

He cracked a shy smile and wrestled the cat back into the bag.

* * *

As soon as we stepped inside the house, we were swept up into a whirlwind of hugs, kisses and squeals of joy. Grins and cheers greeted us, Elliot being the loudest of the bunch. He, in particular, was proud of his little brother popping the big question.

Christian and I did our rounds, devoting time to everyone who had come to the party, answering their burning questions about the proposal and showing off my ring. My cheeks were burning by the time we were done, my grin unwavering and firmly plastered on my face.

The party had been staged through the family room, dining room and the library, all of the adjoining doors wide open to allow free movement. There were silver and white confetti balloons bobbing through the air, hovering over vases of pristine white roses. Huge photographs of me and Christian had been blown up and displayed on easels, a congratulations banner hanging across several of the windows.

"Top up?" Grace sang, rushing towards me with a bottle of champagne. I smiled and offered her my glass, watching as she filled it to the brim. "Are you having fun, sweetheart?"

"So much," I nodded. "Thank you for the party. It's perfect for us."

"I reined Mia in," she winked. "I knew you'd both want low-key. Just family and friends… I'm just so unbelievably happy for you."

It was obvious, her elation radiating from her. Her eyes were lit up, sparkling and wide.

"I have been waiting years for one of my kids to settle down," she said. "But I never thought it would be my Christian getting married first."

"I bet you never thought you'd see him find someone."

She nodded, agreeing with me. "He was always such a loner. We all spent years worrying about him and what the future might hold for him. I was scared he would be on his own for ever."

Her gaze shifted and I followed her eyes, turning to look over my shoulder. My focus settled on Christian.

He was across the room from me, kneeling down with the Flynn kids. The twins were running around, playing some kind of game, but Harriet was standing still in front of Christian. She was clutching her toy cat, cradling it in her tiny arms.

Christian grinned at her and held out his arms, waiting a moment before she crashed into his hold and hugged him. He rested his head on her shoulder and closed his eyes.

My heart throbbed deep inside my chest. I reached up and touched my heart pendant.

"Thank you," Grace muttered.

I snapped my head back to her and frowned.

"For what?"

"For loving him the way he deserves to be loved," she elaborated. "For looking after him. Protecting him… For making him happy."

"You don't need to thank me," I shook my head. "It's my pleasure and privilege."

"You've stood by him," she added. Darkness clouded her eyes and I knew what she was referring to. "You're helping him through his pain."

"We're helping each other," I smiled. I moved my hand from my necklace to her forearm. "But I'm not the only one he needs in his life. He needs his family, and he definitely needs his mom."

She cracked a smile and nodded at me.

"We're all lucky to have you in our lives," she hummed. She stepped forward and wrapped her arms around me. "Welcome to the family, my darling."

I hugged her back and slammed my eyes shut, hiding the tears trying to force their way out of my eyes. My emotions were running high tonight.

One of the things that has united me and Christian is our lack of belonging. Neither of us have ever felt like we were a part of something, born outsiders and destined for a life of loneliness. But we have a family now who care so deeply for us. I have only recently been welcomed into the fold, but Christian has only just started to open himself up to the love they have always shown him.

We finally feel like we belong somewhere. We have found our place in the world.

* * *

I was stood at one of the many tables laid out with food, helping myself to some sweet treats. I was mid-mouthful when I felt a gentle tap on my shoulder. Startled, I spun on the spot and –

"Dad?" I gasped, my mouth hanging open and the contents very nearly crusading to the floor. I quickly swallowed. "Oh my god… Dad. You're here!?"

Ray grinned back at me, his eyes gleaming with the smile that was twisting his thin mouth. He was smartly dressed, even his hair neatly combed back. It looked like he was wearing a new suit too, the fit perfectly tailored and crisp. The navy jacket and pants were matched with a cream shirt and a teal coloured tie.

He opened his arms and I rushed into them.

"Of course, I'm here," he hummed in my ear as he hugged me tight. "Just a tad later than I planned."

"I didn't think you were coming," I mumbled, shaking my head. "I texted you but I didn't get a reply."

"As if I'd miss my baby girl's engagement party," he snorted. "I should have messaged you back, I know. I was going to but then I got a message from Christian. He thought it'd make a nice surprise, if you didn't know I was coming."

At the mention of his name, as if it was a calling, Christian appeared at my side, holding three glass of champagne. Ray and I separated as he passed one glass to my father, offering another to me.

"Congratulations to the both of you," Ray said, grinning proudly. He raised his glass in a toast. "I'm happy for you. I really am."

"That means so much to me," I admitted. I cracked a grin. "Although, I heard you gave Christian a tough time when he asked you?"

Ray's smile stretched higher. I glanced up at Christian and found him laughing to himself.

"I couldn't resist turning on the heat," Ray explained, shrugging. "I needed to know if he could handle it."

"And I passed?" Christian checked.

"With flying colours, son," he nodded. "I couldn't have picked a better man for my Annie. I can rest easy at night, knowing she's safe with you."

"She is," Christian confirmed.

"Dad, I'm so glad you're here," I beamed. I picked up his hand and gave it a tight squeeze. "It feels like forever since I last saw you. I miss you seeing you all the time."

Ray's eyes shot to Christian, the two of them seeming to share a silent look.

"What's going on?" I frowned, glancing between them. "Am I missing something?"

"Well, Annie," Ray muttered, his attention dropping to his glass for a moment. "You won't have to worry about that from now on, because you'll be seeing a lot more of me."

My heart started to race.

"What do you mean?"

"I'm moving," he announced. He lifted his eyes to mine and smiled. "I'm moving here."

My head almost spun off its axis.

" _Here?"_ I repeated in a splutter. "To Seattle?"

"Is that okay with you?"

"Okay!?" I snorted. "Dad, this is amazing!"

I leapt forward again, throwing my arms around his shoulders.

"You're moving here?" I laughed, the news refusing to sink in. "But you love Portland."

"I love you more," he said gruffly. "I've missed you too. I didn't think it would hit me so hard, when you moved here, but it did. Even more so after that fire."

I buried my head in his shoulder.

"I need to be closer to you," he declared, his hands rubbing up and down my back. "If something happens, I want to be here. I need to be here. I'm your dad. I should be here for you."

I peeled back and kissed him on the cheek.

"You'll love the house," he smiled.

"You've already found somewhere?"

He nodded. "I was there today. I got the keys yesterday. I drove up this morning to start settling in. I think I'll be done moving by the end of next week."

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. It was overwhelming. My father's whole life is in Portland and he's giving it up for me.

"The house is practically on the Sound," he continued to explain. "It's not far from Discovery Park. I wish I had some pictures to show you, but you'll have to come over tomorrow and check it out for yourself. It's a cottage, nice and small, exactly what I'll need in my old age."

He winked at me and I shook my head, admonishing his comment.

"How long have you been planning this?" I wondered.

"A couple months," he shrugged again. "Christian's been helping me."

I rolled my head towards my fiancé. He stared at me as he took a long gulp from his glass.

"He helped me look for a house," Ray added. "It saved me having to come back and forth. Christian checked out a few places for me and sent pictures… I think you looked at three or four places for me in the end?"

"Three," Christian confirmed with a nod. "And it was my pleasure. I was more than happy to help."

Ray gave his thanks and the two men chinked their glasses in celebration. Christian dropped his arm around my shoulder, hugging me to him as his own father made his way over to us.

"Ray," Carrick greeted him, clapping his hand on Ray's back. "It's good to see you. Would you like another glass or would you prefer something stronger? I've got a Scotch with your name on it."

"I think I'm going to love living here," Ray laughed. He leaned forward and pecked my cheek. "We'll catch up properly in a bit, baby girl."

"Sure thing," I nodded, holding him to his promise.

I gazed after my father and my future father-in-law as they walked off, deep in conversation about fishing and their plans to go on an all-male trip sometime soon.

"You helped him look for a house," I muttered to Christian.

"I did," he whispered back.

"Another surprise?"

"Something like that," he smirked. He pulled me into his side. "He was desperate to move up here and I wanted to help. I offered to meet with a realtor on his behalf."

"When did you find the right house?"

"Just after we returned from New York," he said. "I got a call while we were out there. They said they had a house I might be interested in. I checked it out and I knew Ray would love it. I put in an offer for him."

I hesitated for a moment, chewing on the inside of my cheek.

"Go on," Christian prompted. "Ask the question."

"Discovery Park? Close to the Sound?"

He nodded at me.

"That sounds expensive," I observed. "Too expensive for Ray."

He narrowed his eyes and shot a glance towards my father, checking he was safely out of listening distance.

"It was out of his budget," he revealed. "But it was the perfect house. I told him I managed to haggle a lower price but I've actually paid the difference."

"He doesn't know?"

He shook his head.

"Your father is a proud man. I don't think he'd take lightly to gifts, especially where money is concerned."

"How much money are we talking?"

"Enough to make him feel uncomfortable if he knew," he explained. "I would pay anything. The money doesn't matter to me. I want him closer to you and I want to get to know him better. We're going to be family… and besides, it kills me when you get sad every time you have to say goodbye to him. I hate seeing how upset you get."

I rotated into him and dropped my head onto his chest.

"You're amazing," I whispered. "Your capacity to love and protect everyone around you is incredible. You continue to astound me."

"I think I like being mysterious and aloof," he pondered on a low hum. "I like the idea of always keeping you on your toes."

* * *

The party was in full swing, inhibitions lowering as more champagne was passed around. The music thumped around us, everyone up on their feet and dancing.

I glanced around me and saw Taylor and Mrs Jones cutting a few shapes to the Diana Ross track that was playing. Everybody was coupled up with their respective partners, although Ray had been commandeered by Frances, Christian's grandmother, while I had been picked out by Theo. He waltzed me effortlessly around the makeshift dancefloor.

Christian, on the other hand, was devoting his full attention to Miss Harriet Flynn. She had refused to set down her toy cat, holding it in one hand whilst Christian twirled her on the spot with her other. Her light giggling was infectious to hear, bringing a grin to my lips.

"I never thought I would see the day," Theo chuckled, nodding his head towards Christian. "Never thought he would be one to hang out with the kiddies. He's practically spent all night with them."

"Me neither," I shook my head. "But the children love him."

"He's easy to love," Theo smirked. He slowed his pace to a soft sway. He winked. "Of course, he takes after me."

Theo Trevelyan had a charm that was as smooth as Cary Grant's, and a wit that was sharper than a tack. I could spend all evening in his company and never grow bored.

"He inherited all of his best traits from you," I winked back. "Do you mind if I sit the next one out? I need to quickly use the restroom."

"You go ahead, my dear," he nodded. He grabbed my face between his hands and pecked a kiss on both my cheeks. "We'll have years of dancing ahead of us. Between me and my grandson, we'll have you rivalling all the best ballroom dancers in the world."

"Fingers crossed," I laughed as I retreated out of the room, in search of the nearest bathroom.

I had put away too much champagne, my bladder now fit to burst. It was almost painful.

I moved quickly down the hall, making a beeline for the bathroom opposite the kitchen. Turning the handle, I pushed the door open and hopped inside.

"Shit!"

I jumped back, my eyes popping open, stunned by what I had just walked in on.

"Ma'am –"

Sawyer spun on the spot, turning his back on me as he fiddled with the front of his pants.

"I'm sorry, I…" I trailed off, shaking my head.

Jaz adjusted her blouse and straightened herself up. She gulped hard and had the overall appearance of a deer caught in headlights.

"We were… um…" she fumbled.

I raised my palms in surrender.

"I was never here," I blurted, pulling back and closing the bathroom door.

 _What the…_

I held my laughter as I raced down the hall, reaching the staircase and taking them two at a time.

 _Sawyer and Jaz._

 _Making out._

 _Holy shit._

"Wow," I whispered to myself as I found a bathroom upstairs, gratefully empty this time.

I was so sure they hated each other. Since Jaz joined my detail, there had always been a constant strain between her and Sawyer. It was a clear power struggle. She took over and was in charge. I assumed Sawyer was pissed off, having effectively been demoted after the fire at Maîtrise. I had seen them bicker when they thought I wasn't watching. I had seen the sideways glances and pursed lips.

Was it just sexual tension all long?

I would never have pictured them together.

And I certainly didn't want to picture them in the way I had just found them downstairs!

I finished up in the bathroom and exited back into the hall, coming to an abrupt stop as I found Christian pacing towards me.

"There you are," he sighed, offering me a weak smile. "I didn't know where you'd gone."

"I had to pee," I shrugged.

I met him in the middle of the hall and looped my arms around his waist.

"You need to stop panicking every time I'm out of sight," I told him, leaning backwards so I could look him in the eyes.

"I wasn't panicking," he shook his head, but I could tell he was lying. I arched my brow. "Okay… You got me."

"I'll always come back to you," I promised.

He relaxed in my hold and held me closer.

"Guess what I just witnessed."

"What?"

"Sawyer and Jaz getting it on in one of the downstairs toilets," I revealed, a chuckle still lingering in my voice. "I walked in on them."

He scowled back at me, his brows bunching into a hard frown.

"What the fuck is going on with my staff?" he grumbled, shaking his head. "First Taylor and Gail hooked up, now those two? Can't anyone keep it in their pants?"

"You're one to talk!" I shot back. "You can't go more than a few hours without pestering me for sex."

"Pestering you?" he tilted his head.

"Yes, pestering," I nodded. I pursed my lips, defiantly. "It's a great inconvenience."

"Oh really?" he pouted. He starting walking me backwards, down past the bathroom I had just left. "I'm not sure it's such an inconvenience when you come every time. Usually multiple times…"

"That's a minor consolation," I quipped. I stared up at him and stuck out my tongue. "What are you doing?"

"Being an inconvenience."

He pushed me into a room on the left and kicked the door shut behind him. He didn't break his hold of me, but I had enough room to wriggle and check out my surroundings.

We were in a relatively empty room. There was a double bed to the right of me, an old looking oar hanging on the wall above it. Opposite, there was a desk and a variety of posters on the wall facing it. I could make out some sailing pictures, ticket stubs, and a Harvard banner.

"Was this your room?" I guessed.

He nodded.

He pushed me to the bed and lowered me back onto it, crawling on top of me as I shuffled further up the mattress.

"But it's empty," I said. "Did you move all of your stuff out?"

"No," he shook his head. He peered down at me, a hand on either side of my head. "It's exactly how it was when I moved out."

"Oh…"

"I was an empty kid," he hummed. He lowered his head to mine and kissed me. "But I'm full now. I'm complete."

His kiss was deep and passionate, his tongue jostling mine into a wild frenzy. He moved one of his hands to my hip, tilting me up into him.

"We can't," I breathed.

"We can."

"Not here we can't! What if someone walks in?"

"No one will come looking for us if we're quick," he grunted.

"Your mom could walk in!" I shook my head.

I didn't know why I was trying to find reasons not to have him. I was aching for him and, weirdly, I was turned on by the risk of getting caught in a compromising position.

Maybe it was the champagne?

"You know I'm a sexual deviant, baby," he smirked. "You make me want to do kinky things, like fucking you in my childhood bedroom whilst our family is downstairs."

"So it's all my fault?"

"It is when I know you're going commando under this pretty little skirt of yours," he said. He dipped his hand between my legs, forcing my skirt up, and traced his fingers along my slickened seam. "God, you're so fucking wet for me… it's a good job you're not wearing panties, they'd be ruined."

He lifted onto his knees and tackled his zipper, yanking it open and deftly removing his erection from his underwear. He pumped his hand up and down his length before nestling back between my thighs, thrusting himself deep inside me.

"Fuckkk –" he groaned. He circled his hips, forcing me to feel every inch of him. "You were ready for me, weren't you? You needed this as much as me?"

"Yes," I moaned. "God, yes…"

"I've changed my mind," he huffed in my ear, dropping his whole weight onto me as he started to pick up his pace. "This isn't going to be quick… Once won't be enough. It'll never be enough."

"Christian –"

"All night, baby," he declared between hard thrusts, his hips slamming into mine. "We'll stay here all night."

I gripped his shoulders as he continued to pound into me, hitting me hard and fast until I came with a strained scream. He joined me in ecstasy moments later, shuddering as he spilled into me.

"Fuck…" he sighed. "Fuck me."

"In a minute," I hummed, breathlessly.

He chuckled into my neck, his lips dancing against my dampened skin.

"Christian?"

"Yes, baby?"

"You need to lock the door," I ordered. "If Ray walks in, he'll probably kill you. He likes you now but I think that will change if he finds you screwing his daughter."

"I'd die a happy man, though," he grinned, his eyes twinkling.

"But I want to keep you around," I shook my head. "You're kinda important to me."

"Ditto," he winked. " _Fiancé_."

I shivered as he said that word, an intense heat pouring through me at the thought of one day being called his wife.

Husband and wife.

Mr and Mrs Christian Grey.

"Are you daydreaming again?" he whispered.

"Maybe," I smiled. "Now get up and lock that bloody door!"

"Yes, ma'am."

 **THE END**

* * *

Thank you all so for supporting this story and its predecessor.

I hope you will also follow and enjoy the next instalment in the series. As promised, there will be more!

I will start uploading the next story very soon – in the next few days! – so keep an eye out for it! In the meantime, I am very happy to share the title and synopsis:

 **I'M YOURS**

 _It's been a whirlwind nine months for Ana and Christian. They met, fell madly in love, faced pure evil and, somehow, came out of it stronger than ever. But as they start making plans for their future, is there one more surprise ready to disrupt their happiness?_

 _(No cheating. No Ana or Christian deaths.)_


End file.
